Against the Tide
by MelonMochi
Summary: (ooc/oc-centric) What if Amaimon had a son?
1. Chapter 1

_Moonlight filtered through the clouds, through gaps in the canopy of trees, casting horrible, dark shadows on the undergrowth around him. He was standing alone on the outskirts of a dense forest, an endless chasm at his back. Overcome with disoriented fear, he stumbled forward, toward the safety of the trees, but a sudden sensation of dread stopped him in his tracks. Something was there, writhing in the shadows, and he knew it, whatever it was, wanted to kill him._

_Amon took a cautious step back, his hands trembling, his breath shallow and quick. He was in a complete, crippling state of panic, incoherent thoughts slipping through his mind like grains of sand. The boy could only watch as..._something_, twitching and misshapen, dragged itself out of the darkness._

_It was a horrifying monster made of black smoke. Thick mist drifted lazily across the ground from somewhere behind it, pooling at its unseen feet. Around its body was the long, black exorcist uniform, accompanied by the familiar red-and-blue sigil on its left breast. Its face was completely consumed by the shadows, its only defining features a wide-toothed grin and sunken eyes engulfed in a terrifyingly familiar blue flame. Two shiny, loaded guns – it didn't cross his mind how he knew they were loaded – hung loosely in either hand._

"_You're a _failure_," it growled, though its mouth didn't move._

"_No," Amon was surprised how easily his voice came to him, "No, you're wrong. I... I'm not-"_

_The monster's expression was suddenly so livid it cut him off mid-sentence. It stepped forward, dragging its body, and raised a gun. "_Failure_!" It roared and pulled the trigger._

**Chapter One  
****Nightmare**

He flew upright, his heart pounding so hard he feared it would erupt from his chest. His hasty movements made the world spin and he gripped his throbbing head until his vision returned to normal.

The blaring of his phone's alarm had been the gunshot that roused him from his sleep. Feeling silly, he turned it off and drew in a long, deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then released it slowly.

_Just another bad dream..._

He seemed to be having them a lot lately; nightmares of a black monster in exorcist garb. But their memories often faded into the back of his mind before the morning was over, so he never concerned himself with their meaning. They were just pointless dreams that emphasized his worry for attending True Cross Academy, that's all. He pushed the thought aside and got out of bed.

Thin light of approaching dawn filtered into his room through deep, sea green drapes. He pulled them back, opened his window, and gazed groggily at the unspoiled beauty of his garden, allowing it to calm him. A chilly, gentle breeze carried the faint scent of lilac. The backyard was dotted with budding flowers of various colors and out of season plants that had no trouble blooming beautifully in his presence. He knew why his garden blossomed so eagerly, even in the winter months, but he tried his best to ignore it.

After ridding his mind of the smoke monster's frightening effects, he showered and stared at himself in the mirror.

Amon had a kind face, just like his late mother, apparently. He had round cheeks with wide, brown eyes and eyebrows that turned upward naturally. His body wasn't toned or even slightly muscular, but thin and lanky. 'Squishy' was the term dad often used when he described him. His most defining, (and disturbing), feature was his hair – it had two colors: black on the bottom and a light shade of green on the top, separated by a jagged line that wrapped all the way around. Atop his head sat an upright spike that leaned slightly to his left, branding him as the son of Amaimon. He ran his fingers through his damp hair, smoothing it back. A few seconds passed before it sprung back up, glaring at him, a permanent reminder of what he was.

_A demon_.

He sighed heavily and finished dressing into his new uniform. When he exited the bathroom, he was greeted by the light sounds of clanking dishes. "Morning," he called, searching the refrigerator for something sweet to drink.

"Morning," Asterius-niisan returned his greeting.

Asterius was impressively muscular and, as a result, massive. At almost seven feet tall, his human host left little to the imagination. Amon vaguely remembered what he looked like as a minotaur and, aside from the bull head and hairy legs that ended in hooves, there wasn't much of a difference.

He lived with Amon as his half-brother and legal guardian. They looked similar at a distance – brown eyes, black hair – but they weren't really related. Asterius, kin of Iblis, was gifted to him as a bodyguard on his eighth birthday. Amaimon demanded that they pretend to be brothers in Assiah to prevent suspicion. Neither of them understood who they were hiding from, but they played their roles regardless, even when not in his presence.

"Where's dad?" he asked, pouring himself a tall glass of apple juice. Today would be his first time in a high school, and he wanted dad to be here to offer some form of comfort for his frayed nerves.

"He already left."

"Oh." He sighed, trying to smother his disappointment. "Okay, then." He hesitated, staring blankly at the juice in his glass.

Asterius noticed his discomfort. He was trained to be tuned to Amon's emotions – to know when to protect him and when to let him protect himself. "You'll be fine." He tossed strips of bacon into the heated pan, earning a disgusted frown from Amon.

"It's a school full of exorcists – _someone_ is going to recognize me." He flopped down at the table and tentatively took a sip from his glass. "And then word will spread and I won't be able to make any friends or..." his voice trailed off and he let the thought hang unspoken in the air. Amon drew in another shaky breath, a futile attempt to calm himself, and ran his fingers through his hair again. It was an action he did when he was nervous, as if smoothing the spike down would hide its existence from the rest of the world. He cringed inwardly when he felt it bounce back up.

"Amon," Asterius-niisan growled at him in a way that was not unkind. "You need to stop worrying about it. True Cross is a big school – If you meet any exorcists who pick on you, just avoid them."

He let out a stubborn groan and rested his chin in his hand. "Easier said than done."

"Stop complaining," he demanded, placing a plate full of freshly sliced Manticore tail before him, "More than half that school has normal students who won't know or care what you are." He let out a short, irritated sigh when he noticed the boy wasn't listening, instead nibbling the edge of his thumb in thought. "You're just like your father." Amon gave an innocent smile that Asterius-niisan only glared at.

Amon's shoulders slumped when he turned back to the stove. He picked up his fork and pushed around the dark pink slices for a moment before deciding to eat elsewhere. "I'm going to have breakfast in the garden – Maybe the fresh air will help clear my head."

"Fifteen minutes," Asterius-niisan called to him without turning around, waving his chopsticks to add emphasis to his words.

Their backyard had been converted to a rich palette of flowers, shrubs, and fruit trees divided into sections which were divided even further by seasons. A white cobblestone path weaved between each bed of flowers and plants, allowing him to admire his work up close. Off to his left was an elliptical bed of almost a dozen different species of roses – his favorite – accentuated by a small, granite pond that was home to both frogs and koi. Two bird feeders could be found on either side of the main path, always busy with flapping wings. Their singing, accompanied by the gently swaying buds in the April breeze, erased all fear from his mind. It would come back to him, he knew it was inevitable, but, for now, he didn't have to worry about how he would be perceived at school.

Everything seemed better when he was here – the world was distant, fading under the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, he could breathe easier, not weighed down by apprehensive thoughts, even dad's mood seemed to improve when he gazed at the garden.

Amon lazily lifted his eyes to the treetops, scanning them for any sign of Amaimon, some hope still lingering in his mind. But he couldn't see or feel him, so he returned to his peaceful breakfast, left to wonder where dad had gone.

He dragged his hand through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. His fingers weaved through the spike, pressing it down gently. Despite his attempts to hide it, Amaimon's reputation clung to him, sometimes ruining opportunities that would have otherwise been given easily to him. He loved his father and often wondered why no one else could see what he did. Amaimon was a demon, not a monster. He wasn't abusive or mean or neglectful, he just didn't know how to raise children. He did his best to be a father, but he wasn't any good at it, so many people – mostly exorcists – misunderstood his intentions.

Dad would be here by the time the entrance ceremony was over, Amon reassured himself, and he would be eager to hear all about how much he liked his first experience with school.

"Amon," Asterius-niisan's hard voice ripped him from his thoughts. "Hurry up! You'll be late!" He walked back into the kitchen, letting the door swing shut behind him.

"Okay," he released a slow breath and spoke quietly to himself, "It's okay, Amon. Don't be scared – You can do this. If someone recognizes you, just ignore them and walk away." Another sigh. "You've always wanted to be a normal student and, now, here's your chance. Don't screw it up!" He stood with renewed energy and stretched his arms high above his head before gathering his empty dishes.

* * *

The train station that would take him to True Cross Academy was only a block away from his house, but he often took an alternative route, both for the exercise and the excitement.

The bike's spokes rattled against the hard wind as he flew down the hill as fast as he could. Over the years, Amon has learned that the best way to handle fear is to forget about it. So he rode his bike down the slope near his house, feeling the wind ruffle his hair, the sun on his skin, the crisp scent of the ocean, and the unexplainable exhilaration as he avoided oncoming cars. But, all too quickly, the downhill fun faded and he was on flat road.

Amon slowed his pace when he rounded the corner and noticed another student with the academy's uniform on a bike waiting for the crosswalk. Excitement burned away his anxiety and he boldly pulled up beside the blond, smiling politely. "Hey! Are you going to True Cross Academy too?"

The boy looked up, relief briefly shown on his face. His eyes were immediately drawn to the lopsided spike on Amon's head – something he was used to – and his expression faltered. "O-Oh, uh... Yeah." He turned away, his grip tightening on the rubber handles of his bike until his knuckles were white.

At that moment, all of his fears about attending True Cross returned to him. Amon sighed to himself and faced forward, eagerly wanting the light to change so he could escape the awkward atmosphere he had created. As soon as it did, he sped off, not offering the other boy a glance. He didn't stop or slow until he was at the station. Breathless, Amon fumbled roughly with his bike's lock, trying to suppress the emotions welling up inside him. Going to a school filled with exorcists when all he wanted was to be left alone was such a _bad_ idea. He wished he had the courage to refuse, but dad was so adamant that he attend _this_ school and not a public one as Amon had wanted. He took his frustration out on the lock and kicked it once it clicked. The blond student from earlier approached as he was leaving, obviously trying to avoid eye contact.

He picked a seat near the front of the train and flopped down with a huff after pulling the window open. Amon kept his eyes locked on the ocean for the entire ride, trying to lose his frustration in the wind and shimmering sunlight reflecting in fractals on the surface of the water.

The train ride was shorter than he hoped and he still felt angry when he exited the station, but the amazing, opulent sight of True Cross helped chase away any remaining irritation. It was as spectacular as it was confusing – Amon didn't even know which buildings belonged to the school. The sidewalk was crowded with students wearing the same uniform, some marveling with him, others greeting their friends, but everyone seemed to be talking over someone else and laughing.

He realized he was gaping and closed his mouth with a snap.

Amon followed the flow of students pass those who were checking into the dormitories and into the main building. It took a bit of effort to push through the congested group that had gathered around the bulletin board, but he managed to note down his classroom number before he was shoved aside.

Thanks to the alternate route he had taken to the train station, he didn't have enough time to meet his teachers or climb the stairs and search for his class. He did, however, have time to stop and stare at the brightly-colored posters on the walls – advertisements for school clubs. They were after school activities that _anyone_ could join, even a demon. Before he entered the auditorium for the orientation, Amon decided on track and theater.

The entrance ceremony was boring and uneventful. There was a brief introduction by the president – Johann Faust – another short speech by their class representative – Jin something – followed by a long, drawn out talk about the school. Amon didn't pay much attention; too busy daydreaming about running cross country or decorating a stage.

When it was finally over, he followed the crowd back to the lobby and decided to take a tour of the rooms open to first year students. The cafeteria instantly reminded him of Hogwarts with its high, arched ceiling, long, widely spaced tables, and hanging chandeliers. Near the counter which led to an open view of the kitchen was a group of glass cases displaying various types of food and their prices. He examined the dishes with disgust, surprised to find that such a wealthy school didn't have anything edible for their demonic familiars.

He would sooner starve than eat Assiah food – apples and certain processed sweets were the only exceptions.

Bored with the gaudy decor and repulsing lunch options, Amon made his way up the right staircase where the four classrooms for first year students were located. He hesitated outside the door to his class, muffled sounds of conversation heightening his anxiety. How many students would recognize him? How many parents would shoot him dirty looks or usher their children away?

Amon held his breath, a futile attempt to force these thoughts into the back of his head, and pushed the door open. Immediately, he was greeted by a cacophony of voices, the large room's acoustics causing them to echo and seem more disorienting than they already were. A few students turned to eye him as he entered. He ignored them, fighting with the urge to hide and run.

_Stop it!_ He screamed at himself. _Not everyone is going to know. You _have _to overcome this!_ Amon tried to distract himself by wandering around the room, mindlessly admiring the intricate design of the windows for about ten minutes.

"U-Um, hello." He tensed and turned to find a cute, petite girl fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

"Oh, u-uh..." he stuttered slightly and cleared his throat. "Hello."

She flushed, avoiding eye contact. "Are you...new to the area?"

"Yeah. How...how did you know?"

"Well... I am too and, um, you don't seem to know anyone..."

Amon glanced around, noticing for the first time that almost all the students had someone to talk to or laugh with. "Yikes, is it _that_ obvious?"

She giggled and smiled at him. "I like your hair."

"O-Oh, I-I...uh," he hesitated and ran his fingers through his hair, feeling his face grow hot. "Umm... Y-You, uh... Re-Really?"

She nodded.

Overcome with the sensation of relief, Amon started to introduce himself and the girl – Hamada – to other students until she departed. Though nearly all of them raised a brow at his hair, most of them seemed to like him, and a few even commented on his 'cool hairstyle'.

He didn't even notice an hour had passed until his phone vibrated. Amon didn't recognize the number, but still excused himself from the noisy room to take the call. "Hello?"

An eager, strangely familiar voice greeted him on the other end. "Ah, hello! Thank you for waiting! Cram school is about to begin and I see you're running a little late. Please meet me by the courtyard fountain and I will escort you!"

"Huh? Who's this?" No response. "Hello?" Amon glanced at his screen only to find that the call had ended.

Confused and slightly concerned, he returned to the classroom and grabbed the attention of the first person he saw – a girl with rather messy hair. "Uh, e-excuse me, do you know where the courtyard fountain is?"

Her already dour expression seemed to darken as she eyed his hair. "_Amaimon_ had a _kid_?" She scoffed.

He tensed and instantly lost his friendly disposition. "Tell me where the fountain is," he spoke slowly, enunciating his words venomously and failing to control his flaring temper.

She raised a brow at his sudden change of tone. "Go through the double doors behind the right staircase."

Amon spun on his heel and left quickly, anger heavy in his footsteps. Guilt struck him as he descended the staircase, washing away all irritation he felt for the cyan-haired girl. It wasn't entirely her fault, but her demeaning tone had made him snap. He was sick of everyone telling him how to feel or that he was dangerous or that his father was too childish to raise a son properly.

But if he continued to respond like this, then it would only prove their suspicions about him and demons in general.

If he saw her again before the day was over, he would apologize for his hostile behavior.

The courtyard was mostly empty, with thick, green grass and strategically placed bushes around a large, stunning fountain. It had two tall tiers at the bottom with thin crevices where water flowed down from the smallest tier at the top surrounded by statues. He frowned at it as he sat on the lowest base, disgusted by the overly decorative design of absolutely _everything_ at the school.

While he waited, Amon stared at the unknown number on his phone's screen and chewed his thumb, as if that would somehow reveal the caller's intentions.

"Ah, there you are!" A strange man dressed in white – gaudy to match the school's extravagant atmosphere – approached him, swinging a pink umbrella accentuated by sweets in his left hand.

Amon knew immediately that he was a demon. Not only was it obvious to the naked eye – his overly confident gait, his otherworldly fashion sense, his sharp eyes, his immaculate skin – but demons, (especially those hiding in hosts), emitted this subtle, vibrating aura that he could feel if he concentrated hard enough. The longer and more drawn out the pulses of the vibration, the higher up the demonic hierarchy they were. With this rather pointless ability, Amon knew the man was the demon king of time and space and someone he had to be careful around. He slumped forward and tried to make himself appear as small and inferior as possible.

It was only when the man was a few feet away that Amon finally recognized him. "P-President Faust!?"

"Please call me Mephisto Pheles." He winked.

"I-I, uh," Amon cleared his throat with apparent difficulty and thought it would be more appropriate to stand. "What do you want with someone like me?" he asked, trying to appear pathetic, just like how dad had taught him.

President Faust looked at Amon and smiled gently, a ghost of a smile that he might have missed had he not been looking directly at the demon. "There's no need to act so formal in front of me, Amon." He jumped, startled that the _demon king of time_ knew his name. Should he be worried or grateful? "Don't you remember? I'm your uncle! You lived in my mansion while you were recovering from miasma poisoning."

Amon suddenly noticed the blaring similarities between Uncle Mephisto and Amaimon: the slightly pointed ears, the high cheekbones, the subtle fangs, even the permanent, dark circles under his eyes, a trait Amon was thankful he didn't inherit.

"I don't remember." He spoke the truth – he could clearly recall the fiery pain in his lungs, but not his surroundings. Besides, Amon was a poor liar and it would be a _terrible_ idea to lie to a demon king.

Uncle Mephisto regarded him with pitying eyes, his eyebrows drawn in, his mouth turned down at the corners. "Forgive me, Amon. You were very ill – I'm sure it's difficult to remember."

Amon took his fictitious apology with an awkward shrug that led to a thick silence. He chewed his thumb anxiously under Uncle Mephisto's scrutinizing gaze until he could no longer stand the lack of noise. "Why did you call me, Uncle?"

"Ah, yes!" He snapped his fingers, as if he'd just forgotten and remembered. "You are late for cram school!"

"Cram school?" Panic settled in his chest. "B-But I passed all the entrance exams."

He raised his brows briefly in amusement and grinned. "_This_ cram school is for exorcists!" Amon's stomach twisted in knots at the sound of that word and it took everything he had not to flinch. "And, recently, for half-demons wanting to learn how to better their abilities!"

"O-Oh. I, I-I'm not-" Amon's breath hitched in his throat. He wanted to say something, refuse maybe, but he was too stunned to move or form any coherent words.

"I understand you're not a half-breed, but let's keep that a _secret_ between us!" He winked yet again, unpleasantly cheerful.

"_Why_?" It was all he could manage.

Uncle Mephisto became serious, if only a little. "Amaimon told me you were having trouble developing your powers on your own, so we figured it would be best to place you in an environment where they would be forced to emerge."

He narrowed his eyes at the demon king, his voice suddenly steady and stiff. "But I don't _have_ any powers to develop!" He spoke rudely considering his position compared to the king of time, but he didn't care anymore. "I've _never_ been able to do the things my father can – the best I can do is make plants grow. It would be a waste of time and resources to send me to cram school."

"Nonsense!" he laughed, "You are my nephew, _of course_ you have power!" He leaned forward, his grin widening. "Even more than Amaimon, I hope." He stepped back and tapped Amon gently on the head with his umbrella. "We just have to find it and bring it out!"

He might have laughed again, but Amon couldn't be certain of that because all he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears. It should be no surprise that Uncle Mephisto didn't believe him – after all, he was the son of Amaimon, a _demon king_. Surely it's impossible for someone like Amon to not have any powers, any strength, to be so utterly _human_.

Now he understood why Amaimon picked True Cross Academy, because even he couldn't believe that his son was so worthless.

Amon had never had to worry about how incompetent he was – he had even grown comfortable with his lack of abilities around his father. But now he would have to show how much of a failure he was in front of an entire class filled with _half-breeds_ far more powerful than him, a _full-blooded_ demon. At that moment, he realized that _this_ was far worse than his previous fear of being recognized as a monster.

"Let's hurry – Class has already started!" Uncle Mephisto spun on his heel and began prancing his way out of the courtyard. "You'll love the Self Defense teacher, Amon. He's a half-demon – ah, but not the type you'd expect..."

He sighed heavily and dragged his trembling fingers through his hair. There was no point in arguing, so he gave up and reluctantly followed.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hello! I hope you like Amon! I worked stupidly hard to make him a well-balanced character despite being well...completely normal by human standards. Let me know if there's anything about him that you think I should change!

I know not many people are interested in this type of story, so thank you for reading and giving this a try! Also thanks to tarballGZ for helping flesh out the plot! This story wouldn't be as good without your help, so thank you! And of course thanks to everyone who submitted characters for me to use! I hope I wrote them well.

Rin and Yukio are estimated to be in their early twenties in this story.

**Blue Exorcist belongs to Katou Kazue and Co.  
**Illustri belongs to Kizmuth**  
****Jinx and Jun belong to Aneki Okumura  
****Yata belongs to tarballGZ**


	2. Chapter 2

"_Shut up!" He couldn't take it anymore – the crying, the screaming, the feeding, the constant need for attention and supervision – It was driving him mad._

_This was going to end tonight, he decided. He would kill it, if only to earn a few hours of peace._

_Amaimon angrily threw back the thick curtain that led to the adjacent room and loomed over the tiny beast in its wooden crib. The wailing lessened when the baby noticed its father's familiar scowl. Amon hiccuped and flailed his stubby arms, hands clenched into tight fists. He picked up the two-week-old newborn by a wrist and glared at it with disgust. It had a soft, lopsided body, with __fat, red cheeks, bright, round eyes, a big, loud mouth, and a thin mess of black hair on its head. Amaimon hated _all_ of it._

"_You're such an _ugly_ thing," he scolded, wrapping his hand around its little neck. "Shut up and die." Just as he began to tighten his grip, Amon clumsily placed a hand on the bridge of his nose._

_He hesitated and that made him even angrier._

"_Stop touching me!" Amon made a strange sound and began playing with his father's face – tapping and squeezing and pulling. His fingers were gentle and unnaturally cold. "You're cold..." Something beyond his control tugged at his heart and churned uncomfortably in his chest. He knew he would regret his lack of action later, but he was no longer in the mood._

_Amaimon placed his son down briefly and removed his tattered jacket. He wrapped it around Amon's little body, paused, and then decided to carry him through the garden until he fell asleep. Carefully, he cradled the baby in his arms, taking slow steps as he walked._

"_I guess you're not _that_ bad," he admitted softly, brushing the unruly black hair from his eyes. Amon grabbed his hand and sucked on a finger._

_No matter how Amaimon looked at him, his son was still ugly and fat and loud. He couldn't figure out what had suddenly made him change his mind._

**Chapter Two  
****Bittersweet**

Amon dragged his feet as he slowly followed Uncle Mephisto down a cobblestone path bordered by vibrant cherry trees. A gentle breeze rustled their branches, blowing loose petals on to the walkway. For a moment, he lost himself in the beauty of his surroundings and forgot his fear. That is, until his uncle tapped him gently on the shoulder with his umbrella. He had stopped in front of what appeared to be a small storage shed.

With a sly grin, the demon held out a simple, silver key. "Here is your infinity key! Make sure you don't lose it." Amon stared at it suspiciously before cautiously accepting it. "Use it on any door to enter the cram school. Convenient, isn't it?" He stepped aside and gestured to the shed. "Try it!"

"Uncle, I..." his voice trailed off and he nervously fidgeted with the key, brushing his thumb against its tiny engravings.

"Amon," he tilted his chin up, smiling gently. "You are a demon prince – Time to act like one and face your fears!"

_He's right. You need to stop acting like a child. What would dad think if he could see you trembling in front of your uncle?_ Amon sighed and steadied his hand, inserted the key into the lock, turned it, and opened the door.

He was unprepared for what lied on the other side, but hardly surprised. The shed opened up to an impossible hallway, grand and imposing, with incredibly tall doorways and intricate, gaudy decorations. Each door had four numbers engraved along their frames to distinguish classrooms. As big as the doors were, the hall was even bigger – Its ceiling was high and arched, just like the school, and was several times as long as it was wide. In fact, Amon couldn't see where it began or ended – both sides abruptly vanished into the gloom.

Uncle Mephisto walked past him and twirled around with his arms outstretched. "So? What do you think?" he asked, obviously gloating.

"It's, uh," Amon swallowed hard and suppressed the urge to say something he was certain he would regret, "...interesting," he finished with a forced smile.

"Wonderful!" He clapped his hands together. "You never liked my creations as a child, so its nice to see you've developed your tastes a little." He spun on his heel, his cape fluttering with his movements, and walked toward the nearest door. "This way, Amon. First year classes take place in 1106. I'll introduce you."

Amon froze and his voice caught in his throat. "A-Ah, uh, thanks, Uncle, but I...I-I can take care of myself." He didn't want to draw any attention to himself, negative or positive, and he _knew_ the demon king of time was incapable of being neither quiet nor subtle.

"Don't be ridiculous! It's my job to take care of you while you're here." Without warning, he turned back to the boy, firmly grabbed his arm, and pulled him quickly to the door. "And stop stuttering – You'll make a fool of yourself," he spoke in a tone that said, very clearly, that the topic was no longer open for discussion.

All the fear and anxiety rushed back to him at once, making his head spin. "Ah! U-Uncle, wait! I-I-I'm not ready!" He couldn't hear his own voice anymore, only the desperate pounding of his blood in his ears. "P-Please let go!" He dug his heels into the polished floor and struggled briefly to pull away from the demon's hand, but it only made him tighten his grip. Amon winced in pain and allowed himself to be dragged, wide eyes locked on the floor.

As they neared the classroom, he couldn't help but wonder if dad ever had to endure similar torture from his older brothers.

With a wave of his hand, the door flew open and pink confetti and sparkles seemed to explode from them. "Hello! My apologies for the interruption!" He removed his top hat, bowed briefly, and then yanked a sickly pale Amon up on the dais at the front of the room. "I have one more addition to the class, Okumura."

One of the exorcists, a teacher, he assumed, stepped forward with a friendly smile. "Perfect timing – We just finished introductions." His kind disposition immediately vanished when he noticed Amon's hair. "Mephisto, is this a joke?"

"_Joke_?" There was something dark and unsettling about the way he grinned. "Demons can have children too, or have you forgotten that _already_, Yukio?"

"Maybe you should let me handle this one." A second exorcist stepped forward and gently urged Yukio-sensei aside. At first, all Amon could see was the smoke monster from his nightmares – the teacher's fiery, blue eyes were the same shade and even their silhouettes were similar – but, after a moment, he recognized him as the bastard son of Satan that caused a disturbance in Gehenna a few years back. His name was Rin, if he remembered correctly. "Hey there!" Unable to find his voice, Amon continued to stare dumbly and fidget with the key in his hand, fascinated by the teacher's strange, demonic aura. "Okay, uh, welcome to True Cross!"

"Amon!" Uncle Mephisto finally released him, but not before positioning him to face the students. "Introduce yourself to the class, please."

Against his better judgment, Amon raised his eyes. His knees immediately turned to jelly, his chest tightened, his insides churned uncomfortably, his cheeks burned with embarrassment, his breath came out in short shudders, and every horrible thought he could imagine flooded his mind.

The class was _full_. At least thirty students were staring back at him.

There were fifteen tables arranged in rows of five and columns of three – each with no less than three students, some even having a fourth. It was something so simple and common: a room of strangers, but there were so many unwavering eyes, so many pulses from different demonic kings, _so many people who knew_...it was more than he could stand. Amon's lungs burned and he struggled to breathe.

"Go on." Uncle Mephisto urged, icy.

"I-I... I'm..." he tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat and nothing came out fully formed.

"_Louder_ – They can't hear you."

Amon could feel tears welling in his eyes, sudden and unwanted. He bit the bottom of his lip hard and tried to calm himself. When it didn't work, he bit down harder. It was either that or cry. "M-My name is Amon!" He bowed stiffly. "Pl-Pleased to meet you!" Quiet snickers and hushed conversation erupted from the class. Amon couldn't move – frozen in an awkwardly low bow.

"Ah, good enough," Uncle Mephisto sighed heavily. "Have fun!" He winked and disappeared with a simple snap of his fingers, leaving behind an unnecessary puff of pink smoke. Amon straightened and turned his head to cough. At least it would be a good excuse for his tears.

Yukio-sensei waved the cloud away from his face. "Thank you for joining us today, Amon," he said, his voice tight with irritation. "Make sure you're on time from now on." His glare made Amon feel small.

"S-Sorry..." he stuttered, slowly running his fingers through his hair.

"Don't be so hard on him, Yukio." Rin-sensei tried to give Amon a reassuring smile, but the boy quickly averted his gaze. "I was late on my first day, too."

He scoffed and adjusted the thinly framed glasses he wore. "You were late _everyday_, nii-san." He turned to the class. "Amon, you will sit next to Chikamatsu." A blond student raised his hand.

The same blond student he ran from earlier that morning.

Amon felt sick, but he did his best to pretend as though he didn't remember their meeting.

"Take your seat so we can begin."

Too distracted by his thoughts, Amon didn't notice when a girl with curly, purple hair stuck her leg out as he passed. He stumbled slightly and caught himself against a nearby desk. "Sorry, Broccoli-kun!" She covered her mouth in mock innocence when he looked back. The laughter that rose around him rang painfully in his ears.

"_That's enough_!" Rin-sensei's hard voice silenced the students. "Class is going to begin now."

Amon finally began to feel calm once the attention shifted to the two exorcists. He had to admit, they were an odd pair: fraternal twins who wanted to give half-breeds a better chance at life in Assiah. Both were passionate about their jobs, Rin-sensei more than his brother. Yukio-sensei, however, seemed to abhor demons and had difficulty hiding it. Amon supposed this was why he primarily dealt with human students.

He was grateful for being born a demon – Yukio-sensei was a terrifying individual.

Together, the brothers explained the cram school's purpose and what was expected of them. All students would participate in the same field assignments and lessons with one exception. At the end of the day, class was divided into two and taught separate lessons: etiquette and Aria. Half-breeds would learn about their anatomy and how to control their instinctual urges while humans would learn how to recite powerful protection mantras and study known demonic weaknesses.

After a brief description of each class, textbooks were distributed and the students were given their first assignment for the year: to read about meisters and pick two to start studying. Amon, not knowing what a meister was before that very moment, could only stare blankly at the page. Most of the students seemed to pick theirs immediately, which made him feel silly for being naïve and indecisive. During the time they were given to make their choices, he fidgeted with his hair, sighed without knowing it, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and finally gave up when Yukio-sensei asked for their attention.

He tucked the unmarked page under the cover of a textbook, ashamed. Was he really just as bad of an exorcist as he was a demon?

Amon wanted to believe he couldn't be _that_ worthless, but he was beginning to lose hope.

"There's one more thing before class is dismissed." Yukio-sensei reached down and grabbed a cage from a compartment under the desk. Inside was a small hobgoblin wearing a collar fixated to the top of its tiny prison. Amon's heart sank at the sight. "Temptaint is a wound or affliction that will allow you to see demons. Those of you who can't see the demon in this cage will need to have the ritual done." He paused and held it up, giving the students in the back a better view. "Follow me." Less than a fourth of the class followed him out of the room.

"Now," Rin-sensei began, "I would like all the half-breeds to stay behind for a few minutes. The rest of you are free to go. Don't forget – Just because your normal classes haven't begun doesn't mean you can skip out on your exorcist classes!"

The room grew awkwardly quiet as the remaining human students gathered their things and left. Growing up, Amon had always been too afraid of bigger demons to approach them and had spent his childhood hidden in dad's palace with Asterius-niisan and Behemoth as his only friends. Being in a class where almost half of its students were powerful demons made him both nervous and excited.

He glanced around the room once, surprised by how human everyone appeared, despite a few wings and horns here and there. Many of the other students were doing the same: looking around and wondering who their enemies were. One of them, kin of Iblis, glared directly at him with unmasked malice. Amon regretted ever looking up and sunk lower in his seat.

"Ahem," Rin-sensei demanded attention again. "I'm sure most of you know who I am. For those who don't – My name is Okumura Rin and I am just like you," he paused to shrug, "Sorta." He paced in front of the desk as he continued, attempting to meet everyone's eyes. "I know what it feels like to be ridiculed and pushed around and treated like you're a monster. But you're not. Here, at True Cross, you are your own person and we will _not_ judge you for who your parents are or what-"

"You don't know _anything_ about us." The Iblis demon who had scowled at Amon interrupted him. "You don't know why we're here, so stop acting like we're helpless!"

The bastard of Satan did not react as expected and laughed lightly. "Darius, was it? You're right! I don't know any of you yet," he smiled. "But I do know what it feels like to be alone, to feel like no one cares about you, and I know a lot of you have already experienced the same thing." He hesitated, waiting for some type of response, but Darius only rolled his eyes. "Sorry, I'm terrible at this kind of stuff!" He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled again. "Just understand that you are all safe to be yourself here and that you can talk to me if you ever feel lonely or uncertain. So...uh, that's it. Dismissed."

Amon, unconcerned with Rin-sensei's short speech, took his time gathering his textbooks, waiting for most of the class to leave before him. He focused on his phone as he walked to the door, trying to look preoccupied by something interesting in his messages. "Amon, wait!" He flinched at the sound of his name and fumbled to catch his phone. His books, however, tumbled noisily to the floor.

"M-Mr. Okumura?"

The teacher was taken aback by his reaction. "Uh, it _is_ Amon, right?" He nodded slowly. "Leave it to Amaimon to name his kid after himself." Rin-sensei sighed and shook his head.

Amon frowned and crouched down to gather his books. "My mother named me."

"Oh... Well, it's a nice name."

"Do you...need anything from me, Mr. Okumura?"

His tone turned serious. "You live with your father, right?" No response. He sighed again. "Listen, Amon, I've met Amaimon a few times before... If you ever need someone to talk to or a safe place to stay-"

"Come to you?" He clenched his teeth, trying to swallow his anger and keep his composure. "My dad would _never_ do anything to hurt me. Why can't you people understand that?"

"Amon, I was just-"

"_Go be a hero to someone else_!"

Stunned, Rin-sensei opened his mouth to respond, but Amon left the room before he could form any words.

* * *

"I'm home!" Amon lazily allowed his bike to clatter to the ground beside Asterius-niisan's car. The minotaur met him at the door and took his textbooks. "Hey, how was college?"

His mouth turned down at the corners. "You look exhausted."

"Huh?" He glanced up from untying his shoes. "Oh, I'm fine."

"Amon-"

"I said I'm fine."

Asterius-niisan noticed his unease, but decided not to pressure him. He placed the books down on a nearby end table. "Where have you been?"

"Cram school." Amon jumped at the sound of dad's voice.

"Dad!" Delighted, he approached him with outstretched arms, but Amaimon quickly stepped back, as though his touch would burn. He stopped and wasn't bothered by dad's rejection. "Sorry! What'd you get for dinner?"

He ignored him. "Did you learn anything?"

"No, our lessons haven't started yet – It was like an orientation."

"How many demons are in your class?"

"Uh, a lot."

"And how many show an interest in you?"

Amon hesitated with his answer, embarrassed all over again. "I-I don't know."

"I expect you to be at the top of your class," he said bluntly. "You are a demon prince and you have _no_ excuse to be weak or stupid, understand?"

His shoulders slumped and he lowered his eyes in submission. "Yes."

"Amaimon," Asterius-niisan's tone was brash. "That's enough."

Dad glared. His silence was a hundred times more threatening than _anything_ Yukio-sensei was capable of, but, thankfully, it never lasted long. "Go wash up, Amon," he softened his voice slightly. "Dinner will be ready soon."

Asterius waited until Amon closed his bedroom door before following his master to the kitchen. The sweet scent of roasting meat filled the room as the earth king opened the oven door to check on his son's meal. Amaimon had learned how to cook and prepare meals not long after Amon was born, but never bothered to learn about the _other_ important aspects of being a father.

"You're being too harsh." He removed plates from the cabinet and set them on the table. "He's just a child – Let him have some fun."

"He can have fun when he isn't so weak."

"Does it really bother you _that_ much? You _know_ making unrealistic demands of him like this won't make his power develop any faster."

Amaimon slammed the oven door shut to emphasize his anger. "Don't you _dare_ tell me how to raise my son!"

_He'll eventually hate you_. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he let the words go without speaking them. Amon obviously had a hard day and he didn't want to make it worse by putting his father in a bad mood. The two worked in a tense silence until dinner preparations were done thirty minutes later. Tonight they were having slow roasted Mammoth marinated in a sweet, black sauce and surrounded by Mandragora halves. To finish, Amaimon placed a small plate of Manticore tail beside Amon's cup.

The minotaur's brow scrunched together – Did he really think a few slices of food would make up for anything? "What's that?"

"He's still young enough to enjoy simple things," he answered, eyes never leaving the plate. Asterius wondered what his intentions were, but, as usual, his expression gave nothing away. After a short pause, Amaimon sliced the meat and placed a generous portion on his son's plate. He took his seat, rested his chin in his hand, and blankly stared at something in the distance as they waited.

"Is it ready yet?" Amon entered the kitchen with a damp towel over his head. "Smells good!"

"Get rid of the towel, Amon."

"Sorry!" He ruffled his hair one last time and set it aside on the counter.

Dinner was quiet, but the silence wasn't awkward or uncomfortable or unwelcome. Amaimon watched him with a stoic face, but Amon's attention was far too devoted to the delicious, tender meat to notice.

"Slow down and chew your food," he scolded.

Asterius-niisan chuckled. "That's a bit ironic coming from _you_, isn't it?"

He narrowed his eyes menacingly at the minotaur. "Don't mock me." The empty threat only made him laugh harder.

Amon looked up from his plate, juice dripping down his chin, and blushed. He covered his mouth with a napkin as he chewed. Despite a bad habit of shoveling food into his mouth, Amon's table manners were unmatched. "Where did you learn to conduct yourself so well?" Asterius-niisan grinned at him. "It certainly wasn't from your father."

"This is your last warning, aurochs," the earth king growled dangerously.

"Don't you want any, dad?"

"Hmm?" Amaimon perked up, surprised by his question. "I already ate." That wasn't true, but Amon had such a monstrous appetite that he often ate entire dishes by himself. "It's all for you."

When dinner was finished, and Amon had devoured the remains of the roasted Mammoth, Amaimon asked him how he enjoyed True Cross Academy. Excited, Amon gave a brief summary of his day, lingering too much on his meeting with Hamada and specifically leaving out his ride to school, Uncle Mephisto's embarrassing introduction, and the incident with Rin-sensei.

But Amaimon never seemed interested in his stories. "Was that your first time meeting Aniue?"

"Uh, yeah. He's..." his voice trailed off as he tried to think of an appropriate word.

Asterius-niisan answered, "He's a piece of shi-"

"Swear."

He shrugged, "He's irritating. He makes me want to strangle something small and cute."

"Aniue can get overwhelming quickly." Amon nodded in agreement. "You'll get used to him eventually." He waved a hand at the topic. "Cram school continues tomorrow – Study before you go to bed tonight."

"Uh, d-dad, actually, I, uh..." Amon hesitated and smoothed his hair back. He didn't want to be an exorcist and hoped he could convince dad to let him drop the classes, or at least wait until next year. "D-Do you think that...m-maybe," he paused again and looked down, too afraid to meet his gaze, "maybe I could..._not_ take exorcist classes?"

"No." His answer was quick and curt.

"B-But there's theater and track! I can join those clubs instead!"

"Will theater or track help you become a better demon?"

He chewed on his bottom lip. "I-I...no, but-"

"But _nothing_."

"I-I can learn how to be a demon next year!" he suggested, hoping dad would at least try to listen to him.

"I said _no_!" His shout made Amon flinch. "You can't do anything – You can barely put together a garden! I will _not_ become a laughing stock because of my powerless son!"

Amon stuttered mindlessly, but couldn't say anything.

"Go to your room and study," he continued, calmer. "And get that _stupid_ fantasy out of your head. I didn't bring you to Assiah so you could become one of those pathetic humans." He paused, waiting for him to leave. When he didn't, Amaimon snapped. "_I said go_!"

Forcing a sob back, Amon grabbed his towel and obeyed grudgingly. The sound of his bedroom door slamming echoed throughout the house.

Asterius stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the ceramic floor. He picked up the empty dishes and placed them quietly in the sink. "_You_ wash them," he spat, regarding the demon with a disappointed glare.

"Excuse me?" Amaimon snorted, incredulous. "What did you just say?"

"Wash the dishes," he repeated slowly.

He raised his eyebrows briefly in amusement and crossed his arms. "I'm a demon king. It's _your_ job to do menial things like cleaning."

Asterius glowered at Amaimon, his features taut with sudden ferocity. "Don't you dare call yourself that here. You are _not_ a demon or a king. You are a _father_ and you need to start acting like one... _Before_ he starts hating you."

The minotaur's words made him bristle. "Amon would never... It is _your_ job to-!"

"No. _My_ job is to do what's best for Amon's livelihood, and if that means I have to kick your deadbeat butt into shape, then I will." He opened his mouth to retort, but Asterius cut him off again. "Fathers clean up after their children. If you can't figure out how to use the dishwasher, the manual is in the black cabinet in the living room." He spun on his heel and left, angry steps ringing against the floor.

Amaimon stood alone in the kitchen, furious and dumbfounded.

* * *

Amon lied back on his bed and covered his eyes with an arm. His textbook sat discarded beside him, still on the first chapter an hour after he had opened it. He tried to read it, but he couldn't focus on the words – too many thoughts swirled around in his mind. Behemoth, noticing his apprehension, crawled up to him and licked his face repeatedly. He attempted to push the hobgoblin away, but it came back just as eager.

"Stop it," he wanted to sound annoyed, but his voice betrayed him.

"Behemoth, down." Amon sat up, surprised that he hadn't heard dad enter the room. Amaimon studied his face for a moment, searching for any indication of anger or hatred. All he could see was a deep misery that he suspected no words of his would assuage. He sat on the edge of his bed and held out a pink lollipop. Amon accepted it. "What are you working on?"

He stuck the hard candy in his mouth and tapped the open book. "We have to pick two meisters by tomorrow."

"Meisters?" He gave it an uninterested glance. "Knight and doctor."

"O-Oh," Amon was surprised by his quick answer. "I'm not sure if I would be good with a sword."

"It's not about the sword," he explained. "When your powers develop, it will be easier for you to attack your opponent if he's closer – You'll need to learn how to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat. You're clumsy so you'll also need to familiarize yourself with medicinal plants for your wounds. With your abilities, you should be able to summon any flora you want at will so long as there's fertile dirt nearby."

"Wow, can you do all that stuff dad?" Amon circled the two words.

"Of course. And you will too one day," he added the latter quickly – It would give the boy some confidence, something he badly needed.

"How come you can't teach me?" Amaimon tilted his head at the question. "If you teach me, I won't have to attend cram school."

"I'm not a good teacher."

He frowned. "But-"

"How many times do I have to tell you: _no buts_!" As punishment, he pinched Amon's fat cheeks.

He laughed and tugged at Amaimon's wrists. "D-Dad!" His words were muffled by the lollipop. "That hurts! Stop!" But he only pulled harder.

"You have such a fat face," he complained. "It's still so round even after all these years." He released him.

"It's your fault for feeding me!" Amon laughed again, finally smiling. The combination of his bright eyes and happy expression was far too dangerous for even the roughest of demons to endure. Amaimon abruptly placed a hand on his head and turned him away.

"D-Don't look at me like that!"

"...Huh?"


	3. Chapter 3

_"__Daddy! Daddy! Wake up! Come look what I made!" Amon tugged roughly on his tattered jacket, rousing him from his sleep._

_Amaimon let out an exasperated sigh and rolled over. "What?" Wasn't Asterius supposed to be keeping the little brat busy? Where was that stupid bull? _

_"__Look, look!"_

_His anger diminished when he noticed that Amon's face had lost all color. The child looked haggard and pallid, with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. "Did you take your medicine?" Amon was born with human lungs – He couldn't breathe the miasma prevalent in Gehenna. It was poisoning him, killing him slowly from the inside. Aniue said it would only get worse as he aged, and eventually kill him, though his medication slowed the process._

_"No! I'm a prince, I don't need medicine! Come __on__!"_

_The demon allowed the child to pull him up from his napping spot and into the living room of his decrepit palace. He deadpanned at the sight of a small hovel made of thick pillows, couch cushions, and his favorite blanket. Amon stood proudly with his hands on his hips. "I told you not to make a mess, Amon."_

_"__It's not a mess!" he retorted with a pout and puffed cheeks. "It's my palace and I'm prince!" He waved around his 'scepter', a long stick with a green leaf and a skewered apple at the top. "Everyone has to do what I say here! Now kneel!"_

_"__Go take your medicine and play with Asterius." He turned, but the child grabbed the tattered edges of his jacket again._

_"__Nooo! It has to be you!" he whined. Amaimon sighed without knowing it and reluctantly complied. The faster he got this over with, the faster he could get back to his midday nap. Amon gently placed the apple on his right shoulder. "Do you swear to serve me and only me for eternity...or something?" No response. The child raised his hands above his head, taking his silence as a 'yes'. "Rise! Rise and serve your prince, Ser Amaim-" he was cut short by a sudden and violent coughing fit. Amon vomited blood and fainted. Amaimon caught him and shook his body in a futile attempt to bring him back to consciousness, ignoring the blood that stained his hands and clothes. His face was contorted in pain and his breathing was ragged._

_He panicked when his son started choking on his own blood. "Amon! ...Amon!"_

**Chapter Three  
****Beaten**

The heavy rain from yesterday had dwindled down to a fine drizzle, almost a mist. Overhead, thick, gray clouds rolled by him, rumbling in the distance. Amon was standing on the sidewalk, watching them pass. He wasn't sure what had made him stop and get off his bike, but the sight was relaxing and serene, and he didn't want to leave it for something far less pleasant.

Today, high school started at True Cross Academy for first years.

Despite having been subjected to a crowded class everyday for exorcist lessons, he was still anxious about meeting the other students, a sensation he feared he would never be rid of. No one liked him in cram school, so why would normal school be any different? Amon tried to be as friendly and polite as possible, but, even so, his classmates continued to scorn him. He was all alone during breaks, watching from a distance as the other half-demons laughed and mingled among themselves.

He heard himself sigh, and it snapped him out of his piteous thoughts. When he finally realized what he was doing – staring at the sky – time had flown by and he was late for the train.

Amon jumped back on his bike and decided to take a shortcut through the neighborhood instead of his usual path by the ocean. He would never hear the end of it if he was late on his first day of normal classes.

When he rounded the corner he saw Chikamatsu, the blond student he sat beside in cram school, on the other side of the street. Amon immediately knew something was wrong. Chikamatsu's pale hair, which was normally pushed back in a spiky style, was wet, too wet to be from the light rain. He was trapped against a wall by Darius, another, rather stubborn, student. The half-demon, kin to Iblis, was as fierce as he was large, with a filthy mess of auburn hair that fell just past his ears. His sleeves were wet and not from rain. Amon had a vague idea of what happened between them before he arrived.

He slowed his pace and hesitated.

Amon knew getting involved would only make things worse for both of them, but he would never be able to forgive himself if he continued to the station and Chikamatsu came to class with a black eye, or worse. His hands tightened around the rubber handles and, before he could think twice about it, he turned his bike and quickly crossed the empty street.

"I asked you a question!" Darius shouted, slamming a hand on the wall beside Chikamatsu's head.

"I don't know!" He sounded angry.

The demon of Iblis made a fist, but Amon grabbed his arm before their argument could turn violent. "Stop it!" Darius glared and yanked his arm back. "_This_ is why half-demons have such a bad reputation! Leave him alone!"

"Leave him alone?" His voice was gruff and dark. "_You_ should know better than anyone why he needs to be beaten." Amon looked at Chikamatsu and frowned. His back was pressed hard against the brick wall behind him and he was trembling – But whether it was from the cold or the situation, he couldn't tell. "Your father hates humans, doesn't he?" Darius' voice dropped, almost to a husky whisper, and he smiled. "Me too. You must hate them just as much as we do, right?"

Amon felt a spasm of unease in his stomach. "O-Of course not," he said mildly. "I don't hate anyone."

Judging by his darkening expression, that wasn't the answer he expected to hear. "You're just as weak as they are, then," he chortled. "No wonder you can't stop stuttering like an idiot."

"I'm _not_ weak."

"Is that so?" Darius stepped forward menacingly and leaned toward Amon to growl quietly in his ear, "Prove it."

Chikamatsu interrupted them. "I... I don't need your help!" Overwhelmed by a sudden, numbing confusion, Amon turned to him, eyes wide with disbelief. "G-Go away!"

"I… I-I was just trying to…" The words dried up in his throat.

"See?" Darius chuckled, circling him from behind. "Even the little human doesn't want you here – _You're worthless_."

"I… I-I'm…" he sputtered. His chest tightened painfully and he pressed a hand to it, as if it would relieve some of the building pressure. "I'm not afraid of you!" The steadiness of his own voice surprised him.

"Oh really?" He inclined his head and grinned. "Then I guess it won't matter if I hit you!"

Amon thought he heard Chikamatsu calling his name, but all sound was muffled by the swift punch Darius landed on the right side of his face. His ears rang loudly and, for a moment, the world was spinning, a haze of blurry colors. Pain briefly exploded through his head, but quickly dulled to a warm, tingling sensation. He straightened his posture and stared, expressionless, at Darius. The half-demon seemed impressed.

"Not bad for the son of Amaimon." Startled, the three boys turned to watch another True Cross student approach them from across the street. The slight movement made Amon's cheek throb painfully. "He's right, though," the stranger continued, "This is why your kind gets such a bad rep." He was loosely holding a metal bat against his shoulder, tapping it rhythmically. His right arm had three circular tattoos in different colors. They looked vaguely familiar to Amon.

"Who the hell do you think you are, _human_?" Darius lifted his chin, rolled his shoulders back, and braced his legs apart, more confident now that he knew the newcomer wasn't a demon.

He grinned mischievously, amused by the half-demon's sudden change in behavior. "I'm the guy who's gonna kick your ass."

Darius threw his head back and laughed, a scary, maniacal sound.

"H-Hey! Let's not fight!" Amon fumbled with his phone and checked its clock – Fifteen minutes until homeroom. "L-Look! We-We're going to be late!"

The stranger smiled at him, almost kindly. "Don't worry – This won't take long."

Darius threw a punch while he was facing Amon, but he expected it and tapped a finger against one of his tattoos. It glowed a dim shade of orange and an Aria sigil materialized before him, catching his fist. The half-demon yelped and immediately pulled his hand back. His fingers were trembling and his knuckles were bleeding. "An exorcist, huh?" He sneered in spite of the pain. "Finally a challenge!"

He lunged at his opponent, who jumped back and activated a different tattoo. This time, he dragged the bat across it, transferring the incandescent, yellow glow from his skin to the metal. Darius eyed it and took a nervous step back. "What's wrong? Scared?" He grinned and licked his lips, eager for a fight.

"N-No!" he stammered, his expression suddenly livid. He pounced on the exorcist in a blind rage, throwing a left, a right, a left, a kick.

He ducked, arched, and dodged in the other direction, moving quickly and preemptively, as if these movements were second nature to him. Darius continued his clumsy attacks, growing angrier with each missed punch.

Eventually, he managed to knock his ankles together, causing him to stumble. Before he could regain his balance, the half-demon grabbed him from behind. The exorcist tossed his head back, smashing it against his nose. Darius let out a cry of pain and released him to cradle his bleeding face. He took the opportunity to swing his bat, but the demon caught it with his free hand. Instantly, his flesh burned and he staggered away, baring his fangs and whipping his tail back and forth violently.

Excitement and anticipation heated Amon's blood, and he forgot all about the dull ache of his bruised face. He was enthralled by the fight, closely watching the exorcist as he seemed to dance away from Darius. There was a relentless focus in his eyes as he moved, an almost inhuman concentration. "Wow, look at him go," Chikamatsu uttered beside him, just as hypnotized.

"He's amazing! Go, senpai!" Amon's cheering made Darius turn his head and snarl at him. He recoiled and gestured to Chikamatsu. "It was him."

"N-No it wasn't!"

This brief distraction was enough to allow the exorcist to land a hard hit on the side of his head with his enchanted bat. Darius fell to the ground, writhing and groaning. He raised the weapon over his head, intending to bring it down on his opponent, but the half-demon held up his hands in defense. "Alright! Alright!" he cried. "You win!"

The bat's yellow glow vanished. "Get out of here before I change my mind and kill you." He stumbled to his feet and reluctantly obeyed, mumbling curses under his breath. Amon watched him disappear through a nearby door using his infinity key, and then turned to his savior. He instinctively lowered his eyes, worried the exorcist might target him next. "Don't worry, earth prince." He snorted a laugh and tapped the bat against his shoulder casually. "I wasn't gonna kill him."

Amon let out the breath he was holding and tried to smile. "T-Thanks for your help."

"Yeah," Chikamatsu added meekly, "Thanks."

"You two need to pick your fights more carefully," he scolded. "Exorcists don't fight other exorcists. If we can't get along," he turned to Chikamatsu and spoke firmly, "_regardless of race_, then we're going to have bigger problems than hostile demons."

The boy glanced at Amon, and quickly averted his gaze to stare at his feet. "I-I know that!" he countered, agitated.

"Then stop being a _coward_! You want to be an exorcist, right? Act like one!" Chikamatsu flinched at the ferocity in his voice, wrapping his arms around himself. "This guy just saved your butt _and_ took a hit for you," he pointed his bat at Amon, who tilted his head, not following their conversation. "The least you could do is thank him."

Chikamatsu shook his head, as if to say he didn't care, and walked away, using his infinity key on the same door Darius went through.

"W-Wait! Y-You don't have to..." Amon sighed in defeat. Guilt rose in his chest again, expanded throughout him and consumed his thoughts. "I'm sorry, senpai," he said quietly, "This is my fault. I… I-I shouldn't have gotten involved…"

He laughed once and raised a brow. "Senpai? It's Yata."

"O-Oh! S-Sorry," Amon blushed. "I… I thought-"

"Senpai is fine." Yata nodded at the phone in Amon's hand. "You should get going too, before you get into even more trouble."

Amon frantically dug through his pockets for his infinity key. He picked up his bike and noticed that Yata was walking away. "Aren't you coming, senpai?"

"Nah," he gestured over his shoulder. "I'm not good at school."

He watched the exorcist turn the corner before using the key. His stomach twisted into knots when he stepped through and found Chikamatsu waiting for him by the main staircase. Their eyes met briefly before he feigned an unconvincing interest in locking up his bike. Amon didn't know if he should speak to him, or wait for him to say something, or ignore him and continue up the stairs to class.

They remained silent until Amon finished securing his bike. "S-Sorry." The two said the word in unison.

"U-Uh. Y-You first," Amon urged gently.

"N-No, it's okay – Go ahead."

He hesitated and dragged his fingers slowly through his hair. "I'm sorry-" They spoke together again and, this time, shared a short laugh.

"Sorry for...y'know, getting involved with Darius. I just...didn't want you to get hurt."

Chikamatsu only nodded in response. "I'm sorry for," he paused. "For the way I've treated you," he finally admitted.

Amon felt guilty all over again. "I-It's okay!" His smile was resigned. "Lots of people treat me worse – It's nothing to apologize for."

He continued despite his words. "I thought you were just like Amaimon; that you hated humans and wanted to hurt them." He sucked in a shaky breath. "I've always been afraid of demons and I thought you were just like the rest of them. But then you got hurt...because of me. I'm sorry I judged you." Amon was speechless. He lowered his eyes and kicked at a small rock on the ground. "Do you think," Chikamatsu started, "M-Maybe we could be friends?"

"_F-Friends_?" Amon repeated the word as if he didn't know what it was.

How was he supposed to respond to that? Was it normal to openly ask someone to be your friend? How did people even become friends anyway? Amon never had friends in Gehenna – There weren't any children his age to play with and dad wouldn't let him leave the palace lest the other demons discover how weak he was. He spent his days playing with bariyons and imaginary soldiers, and his nights studying and practicing in the library. Even after Amon was smuggled into Assiah and given more freedom, dad would never let him near other kids, saying they were stupid and weak and that they might taint him if he got too close. He knew better now, but...

Would _he_ be a good friend? Could Amon, a boy who only ever watched from a distance, be able to open up to someone?

He didn't know. It felt like he didn't know anything anymore.

Lost in his thoughts, Amon didn't notice he had gone quiet for a long time. "It's okay."

"H-Huh?"

Chikamatsu's tone was somber. "It's okay if you don't want to be my friend-"

"N-No!" Amon cut him off abruptly. "I-I want to be friends!"

His face lit up. "Really?"

"Y-Yeah! Of course!" He forced a smile.

"So, uh, does that hurt?" Chikamatsu unintentionally reached out for his face, but quickly pulled his hand back. "The bruise isn't going away."

He gently touched his cheek and winced at the sharp pain. "Oh, it'll be gone by tomorrow," he reassured. "I'm just a slow healer," he paused to shrug and then added, "for a demon."

"Okay. Oh, and you can call me Jun!"

"You can call me Amon!"

* * *

Magic Circles and Seals was an absolute mess. For the past few days, the students have repeatedly drawn practice circles and today they were using them to summon demons to command as their familiars. Small creatures were scurrying about everywhere and everyone was either mumbling incoherent words to their papers or trying to control their familiars.

All Amon could do was summon small, cute garden snakes. They nipped at him affectionately if he offered his hand, but when they realized he didn't have any sake for them, they ignored him and slithered away.

Shura-sensei snorted. "The son of _Amaimon_ can't even control nagas?"

Amon sighed and tore the paper in half. "They only listen to me if I have alcohol." Her attire embarrassed him, so he tried to avoid looking at her.

She threw her head back and laughed loudly. "How typical!"

"Aren't you going to summon anything, Jun?" He seemed startled by Amon's voice.

"Huh? O-Oh," he hesitated as if he were remembering something unpleasant. "No, I already know I can't summon demons."

"Step back and watch a professional!"

The girl that stepped forward raised her hands dramatically. Jinx was a very petite girl with curly, purple hair. She was first year's class representative and the girl who tried to trip Amon the first day of exorcist classes. She was exceptionally talented and smart, and _hated_ being second to _anyone_ in _anything_. Which is, apparently, why she often targeted Amon, who was second only to her.

Once she was certain she had the students' attention, Jinx nonchalantly tossed the slip of paper over her shoulder and snapped her fingers. As she did, she fell back and, with a puff of pink smoke, was sitting in a large, comfortable – rather familiar – pink chair. A matching bat, its wings accentuated by sweets, sneered down at her from its resting spot atop the throne. Beside her, a pot magically poured a steaming cup of tea. It floated gently into her hand. Most of the students were impressed, to say the least.

Shura-sensei narrowed her eyes, but Jinx glared back with just as much ferocity. "I've seen that chair before..."

"So?" She spat stubbornly.

"It's nice to know Mephisto's probably sittin' on his ass right now," she snickered.

Jinx grinned smugly at Amon. "I have _tons_ of familiars that hang on my every word!"

Amon shrugged. "I don't think a chair is that impressive."

The girl hopped to her feet and shoved a finger in his face. "You're just _jealous_ because you can't one-up me! _I'm_ going to be the best exorcist in this class!"

"O-Okay! Good luck." He raised his hands in the most nonthreatening gesture he could manage, not wanting to have the other half of his face bruised. She crossed her arms tight against her chest and huffed angrily at his lax response.

* * *

"Amon?" Yukio-sensei's voice made him drop the glass he was holding and spill its contents over his notes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated. "You're the son of an _earth king_, surely you know how to extract aloe vera?" Amon didn't respond. Yukio-sensei shook his head, sighed with disdain, and placed a new potted aloe plant in front of him. "Try again. If you can't get this right, I'll have to fail you for today. Understand?"

"Y-Yes, Mr. Okumura." He picked up the knife and reached out for a spiky leaf, but his hands were trembling and he couldn't steady them.

"Calm down," the girl beside him placed a hand over his. It only made him shake more.

For today's Demon Pharmaceuticals class, he was paired with Illustri, the first person to recognize him as Amaimon's son during orientation. He had been rude to her and promised himself he would apologize, but when he did, she just stared at him with a dour expression and asked him why he was so hung up on something so trivial. Amon didn't have an answer.

She released him when she noticed her touch was making him uncomfortable. "It's okay to make mistakes," she said, slicing one of her leaves neatly in half.

"Mistakes?" He didn't understand what she was saying.

"You're afraid of making mistakes and that's why you're having such a hard time."

Amon frowned at the plant. "Everyone expects me to do well because-"

She cut him off. "No on expects anything from you." Her face was smooth and unreadable, but there was something hidden in her eyes – Concern, maybe? "Have some confidence – You're not as weak as you think you are."

"Thanks, Illustri." His hands were no longer shaking.

"Cut like this," she slowly dragged her knife across the edge of the aloe leaf and Amon mimicked her movements.

* * *

"Let's go, Amon!" Rin-sensei scolded him from across the training room. "Stop standing there – Fight back!"

Jun, his partner, lowered his shinai. "Are you okay, Amon? You don't look so good."

He squeezed his eyes shut, but the room still swayed beneath him. "I...I..." He leaned on his knees to keep his balance and coughed violently. "I'm okay." He raised his sword.

"You look really pale-" Amon silenced him with an overhead swing he clumsily blocked.

* * *

The longer he waited, watched the students run from the reaper, the more anxious he grew. Reapers read emotions – If a student faltered, it would become hostile and attack. Amon would never be able to hold his own against one, especially with the difficult day he's had. He glanced at Jinx, his unwilling partner, and received a glare in return. Maybe he would feel better if he was paired with Jun, but Jinx... They wouldn't be able to subdue the beast unless they worked together, and teamwork was the last thing on her mind.

Amon had a dreadfully _bad_ feeling about this.

"Next pair!"

He swallowed hard and pushed off the wall. "Hey, Broccoli-Head," she stopped him. "You better not trip or I'm going to let the reaper eat you."

_I won't trip_, he might have said, but he couldn't manage any words.

Descending the ladder was agonizing and waiting for the reaper to be unleashed was even worse. Jinx fidgeted impatiently with her curls as Amon flipped through various strategies in his mind. Simply running from the demon wouldn't work, but one person should be able to distract it long enough for the other to restrain it from behind. And, considering the reaper would be more interested in him than his partner...it was a smart tactic.

"Jinx, I have an idea."

"Bugger your idea – Just outrun it," she spat. He pressed his lips together.

The frog dropped, took one long look at Amon, and erupted into a frenzy. A few minutes in, he was struggling to keep up with Jinx. He was never a strong runner and the poor condition of his lungs only made it worse. It was becoming harder to breathe, and his chest pounded painfully with each step he took.

Jinx glanced over her shoulder and scowled. "What are you doing!? _Keep up_!"

He tried to respond, to tell her to go after its collar as he continued in a circle, but all that came out was a violent, wet cough. Amon stumbled and lost his balance. On his knees, he pressed his hands to his chest, trying to ease the burning sensation that consumed his lungs. The room spun, around and around and around, and all Amon could hear over the thrumming of his heart was his panicked wheezing.

It felt like he was drowning – He couldn't breathe and each time he tried to suck in air he choked on the blood that tried to force its way out of his lungs. Fear flooded his mind as the reverberating footsteps of the reaper drew closer. He vomited and collapsed completely, his body convulsing as he continued to spit up blood. The pain in his chest was incredible, but, through it, he could feel the sensation of being carried by gentle arms, sinking, drifting through the world like a dream, and then the noises and voices faded into the distance and Amon succumbed to the beckoning tide of darkness.

He awoke with a groan almost an hour later, confused by his surroundings. The room was white and clean and a thin curtain had been drawn to separate his bed from the other patients. Holding his head, he sat up and noticed Jinx in a chair opposite of him, still dressed in her Practical Training uniform, a worried expression on her face. Amon immediately dropped his eyes, expecting her to berate him or insult him or even get up and leave – But, she didn't.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Her soft, concerned voice startled him. It was so different from the Jinx he was used to. "Y-Yeah… Sorry." He ran his fingers through his hair, ashamed. "I had miasma poisoning when I was younger, so it limits what I can do physically."

She frowned. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I… I-I…" He stumbled over his words and realized he didn't have a reason. "No one asked."

"That's a _terrible_ excuse!"

Amon shrugged innocently. "Stick around – I'm full of terrible excuses."

And then Jinx did something unexpected – She smiled brightly and laughed, getting up to stand beside him. "You're just like a puppy! Y'know how they look at you with those big, brown eyes? It's hard to stay mad at you."

It took Amon a moment to remember _he_ had brown eyes. He felt his entire face turn a deep shade of red. "U-Uh... I-I… T-That's… I… Um…"

Jinx giggled at his nervous stuttering and ruffled his hair with both hands like Asterius-niisan sometimes would. It made his spike bristle in all directions. She stepped back and covered her mouth, stifling a laugh.

"What?" She shook her head quickly. "What's so funny?" Annoyed, he took out his phone and turned its camera on. The sight made him burst into laughter. "It looks like broccoli!"

Jinx couldn't hold back anymore and laughed loudly with him.

"Amon?" Asterius-niisan pulled back the curtain. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine now, nii-san."

"Good – Let's go home."

* * *

"Are you alright? I told you to carry your inhaler with you! Why are you running? You _know_ you're not supposed to do anything physically strenuous!" Dad immediately attacked him when they got out of the car, but the anger in his voice was concern, something Amon hadn't heard in what felt like a lifetime.

"I'm okay, dad – Don't worry." He smiled, happy despite the fact that the only thing that could wring even the slightest bit of compassion from Amaimon was extreme pain. "It was an isolated incident. It won't happen again, I promise."

Dad ignored him and eyed the disappearing bruise on his cheek. "Who hit you?"

"W-Wha?" His hand automatically touched his injury. "N-No one, dad… It was just an a-accident…"

Amaimon spoke slowly through clenched teeth, his usual stoic expression darkened by rage. "_Who hit you_?"


	4. Chapter 4

_"I want to play too, dad!" Eight-year-old Amon, pale from his recent medical treatment, raised his arms up to Amaimon. "Play! Play!" he cheered, jumping up and down eagerly._

_Most of their time in Assiah so far had been spent in the hospital and Amaimon felt like they both deserved a break. "What do you want to play?" he asked, crouching down to his level and inclining his head._

_"Don't let go!" One of Amon's favorite things to do was cling to Amaimon as he sped through the treetops. "I wanna play! I wanna play!"_

_"Alright – Stop whining." He allowed the child to climb on to his back and wrap his little arms around his neck. "Ready?"_

_"Go! Go!"_

_He rolled his eyes and leapt into the air. Amon squealed with delight as the wind ruffled his hair and the ground disappeared beneath them. A moment later, his shouting was cut off by a wet cough. __His grip around his father loosened significantly.__ "Amon?" Amaimon looked over his shoulder to make sure the boy was still conscious._

_...And missed the branch._

_Both father and son went tumbling to the ground. Amaimon corrected himself midair and landed lightly on his feet, but Amon wasn't as skilled. He heard a sickening sound as his small body crashed into the undergrowth nearby._

_For the next two months, Amon was confined to a tiny hospital room. He had a broken arm, a fractured femur, four broken ribs, and a large, vertical cut from the side of his chest to his knee that had difficulty healing. Tiny wires were stuck to his body in various places, attached to a bunch of machines that made annoying noises. He couldn't sit up, walk, or even use the bathroom alone. And yet, every day Amaimon was there, his son smiled at him, said how happy he was to see him, and never once blamed him for anything._

**Chapter Four  
****Exposed**

Dad was going to be furious.

But, for some strange reason, he didn't care.

Amon wasn't allowed out after dark, though he never understood why, so instead of arguing, he climbed out his bedroom window, into his garden, and hopped the fence. He had never disobeyed Amaimon before, never even considered it, but, oh, how _easy_ it was! Enthusiasm mounted in him as he continued down the sidewalk alone, further and further away from home.

He gazed up at the starless sky while he walked, a deep, black void. It was a cold night for early summer, and Amon zipped up his hoodie as a piercing gust of wind blew it open. He didn't know exactly where he was going, but it didn't matter much to him. It was indescribably thrilling, this feeling of freedom he had never experienced before. He could do whatever he wanted now: explore the neighborhood at night, witness things he couldn't see during the day, _anything_.

But that sensation of freedom quickly melted into a familiar apprehension when he glanced around and noticed a dilapidated playground across the street. He stopped and stared at it, visions of children laughing and playing and running in his mind. Amon absentmindedly walked over to it, his steps slow and careful, as if he didn't want to interrupt the memories repeating in his head. He reached out and touched the rusted fence, his fingertips lightly grazing its rough surface.

The park was old and it looked as if it had been abandoned some time ago. There was an empty sandbox, a pair of broken swings, and a worn down playset in the corner. The grass was long and unkempt, swaying in the chilly night breeze, and weeds poked out against the decrepit metal structures. Amon forced the decaying gate open with some effort and stepped in. He had never been inside the little playground before, but he clearly remembered watching children play from a distance as a young boy, desperately wishing he could join them.

He smiled in spite of himself. Amon had real friends now, both human and exorcist – Jun, Jinx, Hamada, Kenji, Yata, Shinjiro, Mika and her little sister – people that truly liked him, that wanted to be around him, who laughed at his jokes and didn't mind that he stuttered like an idiot or acted awkwardly. They urged him to open up, come out of his comfort zone and do things he would have never considered otherwise. And yet, they didn't force him – They let him be who he wanted to be, and never once ridiculed him for it. The loneliness he felt as a child seemed so far away, a bad dream.

Things were different now, better, but still, seeing this dismal place again reminded him of what he once had.

A sudden vibration in his pants made Amon jump and stumble to keep his balance. He pulled out his phone and his heart thrummed hard in his chest at the sight of dad's number.

_GET HOME RIGHT NOW_

Uh-Oh. Dad was going to _kill_ him.

He pocketed it and began to retrace his steps, frantically searching for familiar landmarks. Amon paused briefly when he sensed something nearby. It was a slow, steady pulse, like someone was quietly playing a drum.

_Demon_.

Amon broke into a jog, unable to find the source of the demonic aura. He turned the corner a little too sharply, glancing behind him to make sure he wasn't being followed, and crashed into something hard. With a shout of surprise, he fell and landed on his hip.

"I-I'm s-sorry!" he stuttered, pulling himself up to his feet and clutching his throbbing side. "I-I, I'm in a h-hurry and-" he froze mid-sentence, finally realizing the person he bumped into was Darius. "Oh...i-it was...y-you..." Amon immediately regretted his decision to sneak out.

"Yeah, _me_." Darius hadn't been to class for almost a week and Amon could see why – The flesh on his bare arms and neck were covered with partially healed scars and a thick bandage protected his left eye. Amon swallowed hard, stepping back and fidgeting nervously with his fringe. "Nice evening for a stroll, _isn't it_?" he growled, his expression narrowing and darkening with rage. "Where's your _daddy_?"

"He... H-He's..." he couldn't finish.

"He's what?" The half-demon leaned forward, cupping a hand to his pointed ear. "What's _that_?" He paused and nodded as if Amon responded. "He's pathetic and should just do everyone a favor and get exorcised? Well, that's mean, Amon – But I totally agree!" He shrugged, face melting into a mocking grin. "Amaimon is only in Assiah because he _knows_ his brothers would kill him for being such an embarrassment if he stayed behind in Gehenna!"

"M-My dad's n-not...!"

"Oh, what did you say? He's a little _bitch_ too? How true!"

"D-Don't..."

Darius grabbed him by his hoodie and pulled him close, snarling in his face. "Speak up! I can't hear you when you stutter!"

"I-I... I s-said..."

"You're worthless! Just like your poor excuse for a father!" Darius punched him, two hard, swift left hooks.

And then something snapped inside Amon.

A minute ago, he had been a terrified, dejected boy who couldn't look up from the ground – But now the anger was plain on his face.

"Shut up." His voice was steady and menacing. Darius raised a brow and inclined his head, amused. "You don't know anything about my dad."

He laughed. "_Don't I_?" The half-demon released him and stepped back. "Look what he did to me!" he roared, pulling the collar of his shirt down to expose more scars. "He attacked me while I was sleeping!" His shouting swelled as his temper flared. "Your dad ripped my eye out while I was half awake because he was too afraid to fight me! He's a _coward_!"

Amon didn't want to hear anymore, didn't want to know how much of a monster his dad truly was.

"_I said SHUT UP_!" He wasn't sure why he did it, but he gestured angrily with his hand.

Concrete spikes suddenly exploded out from the ground at his feet, following the horizontal arch of his arm. Each was about six feet in length, tapering off into sharp, tiny points at the ends. They all aimed for Darius. He let out a startled shout and scrambled back, one of them coming within an inch of his forehead. Had he remained where he was, the spikes would have buried themselves into his skull, killing him instantly.

Amon stared at his hand in mute astonishment, eyes wide and mouth agape. To his horror, he realized those spikes came from _him_. Gradually, they crumbled to dust and disappeared back into the sidewalk. He stepped away from where the spikes once were, tripped, and stumbled slightly. His entire body was trembling so violently his legs could hardly hold him.

He was unable to tear his eyes away from his hands, unable to stop the tremors in his arms and legs. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Amon knew he should calm himself, try to regain his senses, ask Darius if he was hurt, but all of this seemed distant, drowned out by his panicked thoughts.

This _couldn't_ be happening. _Not now_. Not when everything in his life was finally how he wanted it to be. Amon didn't want this, to throw away the relationships he worked so hard to build, to distance himself, to be alone again. He didn't want to be a demon. He wanted to be normal, like everyone else. He wanted his only worries to be about midterms and getting a girlfriend.

"D-Darius... A-Are... Are you-" He tried to ask the half-demon if he was injured, but the words wouldn't come. Suddenly, someone with an almost inhumanly strong grip grabbed his wrists and restrained them behind him. Amon didn't struggle, knowing who it was from the tattoos on his arm. "S-Senpai!"

"Get out of here!" Yata directed the words to Darius, who obeyed, scrambling to his feet and running in the opposite direction. Once he was out of sight, Yata let him go. "What's wrong with you?"

Amon rubbed his wrists and stared at the ground, ashamed and embarrassed. "I-I'm sorry. I...I don't know..." He stared down at his shaking hands. They looked so different, so unfamiliar – dangerous, malevolent weapons.

He wasn't ready for this.

_I won't cry. Don't cry, Amon. I won't... Won't..._

"S-Senpai... I-I don't... I don't want to be like him. I don't want this!" Devastated, he sunk to his knees and sobbed, covering his mouth with a hand to muffle his cries. "I don't want to be a monster!" He heard a humiliating whine in his voice and it only made him cry harder.

An ugly shame came over him as he sobbed. He felt so pathetic, expressing such an embarrassing emotion in front of someone he looked up to.

Yata looked at him in alarm. He didn't know how to react and knelt beside him to offer comfort. The exorcist waited patiently until his sobs turned into sniffles. "You're _nothing_ like Amaimon," he said finally. "Besides, not all demons are monsters. Rin is one of your teachers, right?" Amon nodded and wiped his reddened face with his sleeve. "He's one of the most dangerous demons alive, and everyone likes him."

"T-That's true."

"And did you see the look on his face when those spikes came out?" Yata grinned mischievously. "_That_ was awesome!"

Amon couldn't help but laugh. "It _was_ pretty funny."

"See? Nothing to cry about. Come on, I'll take you home." He helped him to his feet and they continued walking. Amon half-jogged to keep up with his long-legged stride.

"Senpai, how do you know where I live?"

He snorted. "Are you kidding? With a garden like _that_?"

"O-Oh...I guess that makes sense." And, with that, they lapsed into silence. The two didn't walk as far as he expected, and Amon was slightly disappointed to discover that he had only gone a short distance away. His body became rigid when they stopped beside the path leading to his house. The porch light was on and he could imagine dad angrily chewing on his thumb as he waited. "U-Uh, senpai?"

"What?"

"Can you..._not_ tell my dad about this?" Dad couldn't know – Not yet. If he found out, he would only push Amon harder. He loved his father, but he was strict and Amon didn't know how much more pressure he could handle.

Yata didn't question him. "Sure – So long as you promise to stay out of trouble."

"Okay, promise. T-Thanks!"

The exorcist smiled and winked at him before turning the corner and continuing down the sidewalk, whistling a tuneless melody. Amon sucked in a deep breath and slowly approached the porch. He paused at the door, trying to calm himself. Before he was ready, Amaimon opened it. He glared and Amon's stomach churned uncomfortably.

"Get in," he demanded, guiding his son inside and out of the stinging, cold, night air. He slammed the heavy door behind them. "Where have you been?"

"I-I just w-wanted to go for a walk! I-I wasn't going to go far, I s-swear! I-I was – I'm so, so sorry, d-dad!" He cried, blurting everything out in a single breath.

Finally gaining control of himself, Amon quieted and looked up at him, sniffling and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, fresh tears forming in his eyes. He kept his head bowed low, his cheeks red, his face newly bruised, and his tiny fangs poking his bottom lip as he anxiously chewed it. Amaimon's anger instantly vanished – He couldn't stay mad at a face like that. "Go to your room," his voice was calm but commanding. "We'll talk about it in the morning."

The next day, dad forgot all about scolding Amon, but he didn't forget about his nighttime expedition. Uncle Mephisto visited for 'lunch' and placed an Aria sigil over his bedroom window so he would no longer be able to open it.

Amon didn't tell anyone about what happened, not Jun or Jinx or even Asterius-niisan. Yata never mentioned it again, either. When he returned to True Cross Academy on Monday, Darius was finally back in class. They both made an effort to avoid each other as much as possible. Two weeks quickly flew by and Amon, absorbed in his studies, eventually forgot all about it.

During this time, he tried to replicate the spikes only once, but, thankfully, nothing ever happened.

* * *

"Dad!" Amaimon looked down from his sunbathing spot on the roof, surprised to find Amon waving at him.

He landed without a sound. "What are you doing home so early?"

"It's summer vacation!" he answered with an air of excitement. "Everyone is getting ready for the camping trip next week so there's no cram school!"

"That doesn't mean you get to slack off." Dad followed as Amon led his bike into the garage.

"Come _on_ dad!" he pleaded. "I've worked really hard all year and I haven't made _any_ progress. Can't I have a few days off? _Please_?"

Amaimon inclined his head and studied Amon with a stoic expression, as if debating with himself. He dug a lollipop out of his pocket and handed it to him – Watermelon, his favorite. "Three days. Then start studying again."

Amon's face lit up. "Thank you!" He picked up his phone, thumbs dancing quickly across its screen. "That means I can go see the movie tomorrow night!"

"Movie? What movie?" The two stepped aside as Asterius-niisan pulled his car in.

He shrugged, eyes locked on his phone. "Some horror movie about a guy slaughtering a bunch of campers."

"Sounds fun."

"Don't tell me you're going to see that crap in theaters, Amon." Asterius-niisan leaned on his open car door, frowning.

Amon laughed lightly. "Is it _that_ bad?"

He shook his head in disdain. "Humans make the worst movies I've ever seen in my life."

"Shinji said it was because the director is different in this one."

"Who's _Shinji_?" Amaimon asked pointedly, eyes narrowing.

Amon was instantly unnerved by his hostility. "H-He's my friend."

"Is he a demon?"

"N-No..."

"Then an exorcist?" He didn't want to answer. "How many times do I have to tell you not to mingle with humans? You're lucky I let you go to school in the first place."

"B-But, they-"

"I said no, Amon."

"Amaimon," Asterius-niisan growled a warning at him, but the earth king ignored it.

"You are not going to see a movie with a bunch of _humans_," he spat the word, making it a curse.

"T-There's nothing wrong with them, dad! They're nice to me!"

"Don't talk back to me!" he snapped, his tone icy. "I am your father and you _will_ listen to me!"

"I won't listen to you when you don't know what you're talking about!" Amon shot back, taking both demons by surprise. "It doesn't matter if they're human or demon, they're my _friends_!"

"Go to your room!" he shouted. For a moment, his livid expression made him look truly demonic.

"You can't-"

"Go!"

"Fine!" Amon threw the lollipop to the ground and stomped inside, slamming his bedroom door.

Amaimon sighed heavily in defeat, a pained expression briefly shown on his face before it smoothed again, concealing anything he felt. He stared blankly at the discarded candy. Asterius picked it up. "That's not how you're going to get him to like you."

"I know that..." he muttered angrily. He turned on his heel and quickly left the garage.

Amon spent the rest of the day, and most of the next morning, locked in his room, only venturing out to shower and retrieve his dinner. Around noon, a soft knock came to his door. He scrambled upright and hastily shoved the book he was reading under his pillow as Asterius-niisan opened the door. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough, and the minotaur caught a glimpse of the title.

"Are you reading _Twilight_?" he raised his brows in shock.

"...I don't know." Amon answered vacantly.

Asterius-niisan burst into laughter and ruffled his hair. "We'll get you some Lovecraft the next time we're at the bookstore, okay?"

He pouted, agitated. "Are you here to make fun of my taste in books?"

The minotaur sat on his bed and handed him a small envelope. "Your taste in movies is questionable too."

Amon glared, but it vanished when he opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of money. "What's this?"

"For the movie theater."

"H-Huh? But, dad said..."

Asterius-niisan waved a hand dismissively. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him." Amon looked at the minotaur suspiciously, brow scrunched together and mouth turned down at the corners. "Amaimon isn't going to be here tonight," he said with a widening grin. "You go hang out with your friends, I'll make up some excuse if he comes home early, and he'll never know."

"R-Really!?" His hands trembled with sudden excitement.

"I used to sneak out of the house all the time when I was your age. It's part of growing up."

Amon tackled him in a tight hug. "Thank you! Thank you!"

He laughed, returning the gesture. "Alright! Get off – You need to hurry and let your friends know!"

* * *

"Thank you very much for all your help, Okumura-sensei!"

"Oh, n-no prob!" Rin blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "See you next week, Roman. Don't forget to pack!" He waved to the family as they left.

"I see you're doing well, little brother."

"_ACK_!" Rin jumped, startled to find Amaimon beside him with an open bag of chips in his hand. He unsheathed his sword, decorating his body with blue flames, and glared at him. "What are you doing here?" The demon, unaffected by his threat, held up a poster that read 'Parent-Teacher Conferences'. "...Oh." He returned his sword to its sheath and let it dangle at his side. "Uh...come on in... I guess."

The classroom was empty and only one row of lights near the front was lit. "Where's glasses?" he asked, mouth full of chips.

"Yukio? He's with another family next door." He placed a chair down beside the teacher's desk on the dais and gestured to it. Amaimon dropped the empty bag where he stood and sat down. Rin frowned, but didn't say anything. "So," he started, sighing to calm himself. "Amon? He said his mother named him. If you don't mind me asking...who is his mother?"

"She's a nymph. You don't know her."

Rin seemed surprised by his answer. "Mephisto said he was a half-demon." Amaimon only shrugged in response. "...Where is she – His mother?"

"She's _dead_," his voice was hard, telling him that more questions in that direction would not be welcome.

"Right," Rin nodded, acknowledging his hostility, and changed the subject. "Amon is an excellent student – he has the highest test scores in the class – but...he has difficulty working in groups. He doesn't really talk to any of the other students and even when he's with his friends he acts kinda...reserved." Amaimon glanced around the room, obviously not listening. He cleared his throat loudly in a vain attempt to get the demon's attention and went on. "Amon lacks confidence – He believes nothing he does is good enough, and I think that's partly your fault." No response. Rin tapped his finger, trying to suppress his anger. "He really looks up to you, Amaimon. Maybe you should talk to him – Reward him more often for his grades."

"Has he developed any new abilities?"

Rin raised a brow. "Uh, no... I haven't really been paying attention. Besides, I don't think it matters with grades like his – He could be any meister he wanted, except Aria, obviously."

"We've already talked about his meister. Can you do anything to expedite his development?"

He looked at Amaimon in dismay. "Is that all you care about?"

"Yes!" he snapped, his voice rising suddenly. "I'm sick of waiting!"

"Waiting for what? He's just a kid – Let him live his life!"

The earth king let out a long, low breath. "Amon wasn't bred to have a life."

"Wha..." Rin started, concerned. "What are you talking about?"

"Amon is my new host." He continued in response to Rin's blank look. "With nymph blood, he's supposed to be twice as powerful as me. Once he develops his abilities completely, I'll kill him and take his body. I should be almost as strong as Aniue, if our calculations are correct."

Rin couldn't speak, shocked and appalled, and a tense, uncomfortable silence fell over them. He thumbed the edge of a stack of graded papers, but it was an automatic, meaningless gesture that he wasn't even aware of. The half-demon blinked and flinched as if awakened from deep thought. "You... You're kidding!" He laughed with nervous disbelief. "No, no, no – This has got to be some sick joke, right?"

Amaimon stared at him, expressionless.

He exploded, jumping to his feet and knocking his chair against the chalkboard behind him. "You're going to _kill_ your _son_!? Your own flesh and blood? _What the hell is wrong with you_!?" he shouted, disgusted. "Don't you love him, Amaimon?"

"Demons don't love."

Rin narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "_Amon loves you_." Something flashed across the demon's face, but it was too quick and subtle for him to determine what it was. "How can you raise someone like Amon and then sit there and tell me demons don't love?"

Amaimon withdrew his gaze, but said nothing.

The half-demon stepped back and flopped into his chair. "Get out," he said firmly. "I can't look at you anymore." He complied without a word, closing the classroom door quietly behind him.

Alone in the classroom, Rin buried his face in his hands, trying desperately to gather his scattered thoughts. Amaimon's voice echoed in the back of his mind – _He's my new host. I'm going to kill him._ Satan had wanted to do the very same to him and his brother once, to take their bodies so he could exist in Assiah. He wasn't going to let that happen again, especially not to someone as undeserving as Amon. He had to do something, get him away from Amaimon somehow.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened. "Yukio!" He stood abruptly, startling him.

"N-Nii-san? What is it?"

"You know that nervous little kid Amon?"

Yukio narrowed his eyes, not liking the direction of their conversation. "What about him?"

"Amaimon is going to kill him and take him as his host."

The exorcist didn't seem impressed. "And? Lots of demons kill their offspring. There's nothing we can do."

"Nothing we can-" Rin stopped himself, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Are you listening to yourself? This is a child!"

"Amon is a half-demon and furthermore the son of the person who _ruined_ your life – Or did you forget that Amaimon forced you to reveal yourself to everyone? As far as we're concerned, Amaimon is doing us a favor."

An unfamiliar sense of unease flickered through him. He scowled furiously at his brother. "You're a _monster_, Yukio."

* * *

"_Whoa_! That was sick!"

"It was stupid."

"I liked the ending."

"Nii-san was right – That movie was _terrible_!"

The group of raucous teenagers exited the theater together, all of them seemingly talking at once. One of the boys wrapped an arm around Amon's shoulders and poked his ribs playfully. "I still can't believe your dad changed his mind!"

"Oh, he didn't."

Jinx spun around to face him, her eyes wide. "You mean you _snuck_ out?"

"Kinda." He dragged his fingers through his hair nervously.

"No way! Our little, shy Amon disobeyed daddy?"

"Shut up!" Amon shoved his friend with a chuckle. "It's not the first time."

"Aren't you worried you'll get into trouble?" Jun asked.

"Nah," he shrugged. "Dad's busy tonight and nii-san promised he would keep him distracted until I got back."

Jinx placed her hands firmly on her hips and grinned at him triumphantly. "I don't believe it! You're finally becoming a man, Amon. I'm so proud of you!"

They all laughed, teasing him with jests and light nudges. After a few more minutes of goofing off, the group finally separated and dispersed into the parking lot. Amon felt a small tug on his sleeve and turned to find Hamada beside him. Her light hair cascaded around her shoulders, curls gently brushing her cheeks as the wind disturbed them. She tucked a lock behind her ear and smiled softly.

Amon was far from the romantic type, but, somehow, Hamada always managed to spark something within him. Her eyes hypnotized him when he gazed at her, her smile was contagious, and her benign disposition made his heart flutter. At first, he tried his best to deny these emotions, afraid dad would find out and be even more disappointed that his son was in love with a _human_, but he couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't stop daydreaming about her, no matter how hard he tried.

His shoulders raised slightly as he tensed and smiled shyly at her. "H-Hey..."

"Hey." She shifted her weight to her other foot and leaned closer to him.

"...Uh, s-so, did you have fun tonight?" He dragged his fingers through his hair and blushed.

"Of course. I'm glad you were able to make it, Amon. It wouldn't be fun without you." Before he could respond, Hamada kissed him on the cheek and ran off.

Amon's face flared a bright red. He watched her go and lightly pressed his fingertips to the place where her lips touched him.


	5. Chapter 5

_I need to tell you something about your father. I know... I'm probably not the best person to tell you this, but... It's important. Please, Amon. I don't want to see you get hurt._

Amon pressed the heel of his hands to his eyes, digging his canines into his bottom lip. He was nervous, scared, filled with dread, unable to quiet the swirling torrent of emotions in his chest.

_I don't want to see you get hurt._

What did Rin-sensei mean by that? Dad would never hurt him – He knew this. So, then, why was he here? Why had he allowed Asterius-niisan to convince him to visit their dormitory? Amon didn't want to hear the secrets his teacher knew. He didn't want to be here and he didn't want the image of his father he so carefully constructed in his mind to be ruined, especially by someone like Rin-sensei.

He clenched his fists and pressed his hands harder to his eyes until they hurt.

Asterius-niisan knocked on the window lightly before opening the door. Amon raised his eyes, past the minotaur and to the tall dormitory behind him. The building appeared worn and dilapidated, but its insides had been reconstructed to house the half-demons attending the academy, including the Okumura twins. He briefly wondered what it would be like to live here, separated from the rest of the school because of his lineage.

"Amon," he called gently, a vain attempt to get the boy's attention. His emotions were written plainly on his face: apprehension, panic, fear. The minotaur touched his shoulder to pull him out of his reverie. "Come on."

Amon stepped out of the car, but refused to move any further. "Can you come with me?"

He chuckled slightly, if only to relieve some of the tension they both felt. "How old are you again?"

"...I'm scared."

Asterius-niisan's smile vanished. He knew this moment would come eventually, when Amon discovered the truth, but he had hoped it would come at a more opportune time, at least when he was ready for it. "I know," he uttered. He could think of no words to assuage his anxiety. "Whatever happens, Amon, I'll be here for you." He gave the boy a gentle nudge to encourage him. "Go. And take your time."

Amon stared at him for a moment, brow pulled together in a way that made him look like a terrified child. Eventually, he turned and slowly walked up the steps to the double doors. He pressed the buzzer, twirling a lock of black hair around his finger as he waited. A faint static sound came from the speaker.

"Hello?" It was Rin-sensei.

He hesitated and glanced back at Asterius-niisan, who nodded once. "I... I-It's me, M-Mr. Okumura."

"Oh, Amon! One sec." A door opened wide and Rin-sensei, unprofessionally dressed in his pajamas, smiled wanly in greeting. "Thanks for coming all this way. I know it's summer break, but this couldn't wait." He stepped aside. "Come on in. And, we're outside of school, so call me Rin. Mr. Okumura gets a little weird after a while."

**Chapter Five  
****Lament**

"Do you want some tea? It's bitter," Rin paused. "Uh, earth demons like bitter tea, right?"

"I wouldn't know." Amon nervously sat at one of the tables in the empty cafeteria, watching his teacher with a mixture of suspicion and fear.

"Well, there's only one way to find out!" He sat across from him, placing three small cups of steaming tea before them. "We're just waiting for Yukio," he said in response to Amon eyeing the third cup. "So, uh, enjoying your vacation so far?" He didn't respond. Rin chewed the inside of his cheek. "Do anything fun yet?"

He seemed to perk up at that. "I saw my first Assiah movie with some friends."

"...Gehenna has movies?" He took a drink of his tea, made a face, and pushed it away.

Amon picked up his cup and sipped it. "We have television and Internet, too. My favorite show when I was little was called '_Adventures of Abaddon_'. It was about this little imp who went around slaughtering entire villages and ravaging the land of their crops."

Rin frowned. "That...doesn't sound like a good show for children."

"I liked it. It was funny," he shrugged.

"What else can you tell me about Gehenna?" He rested his chin in his hand, smiling softly as Amon eagerly rambled about his unexciting childhood in a different world.

"And sometimes we would have competitions to see who could catch the most hobgoblins before nightfall. The prize was usually cake or something sweet. I never won, but dad always cut the prize in half and shared it with me." Amon stared down at his empty teacup, tracing a finger around its rim.

"I'm impressed – It sounds like Amaimon took really good care of you," Rin said, a solemn undercurrent to his voice.

He nodded. "I don't understand why everyone assumes he's a bad father. He's not. Dad's just...inexperienced. I-"

Both demons jumped when the door opened abruptly. "Sorry I'm late," Yukio announced, striding into the room with a determined step. He cast a hard glance at Amon, making him flinch and avert his eyes, and sat down next to Rin. "Hello, Amon." The boy acknowledged him with a small nod, not looking up from his cup. "Sorry to interrupt, nii-san. Please continue."

"Uh, right." Rin cleared his throat with apparent difficulty. "Amon... The reason I called you out here is," he hesitated. What was the best way to tell him the very man he idolized so dearly wanted to kill him? "Has Amaimon ever talked to you about...your birth?"

The cup slipped from his hands, clattering loudly on to the table. "M-My birth?"

"Like...who your mother was or how they met?"

He lapsed into silence, tucking a lock of hair behind his pointed ear. "Her name was Nymeria," he started. "She was a priestess that belonged to a small nymph tribe living in the Garden of Amahara under dad's protection. She died a couple days after I was born, and then dad came to get me. That's all I know."

"Strange..." Yukio seemed a bit confused, his brow knit together as he thought aloud. "Nymphs are very traditional demons and incredibly protective of their children. It's unlikely they would breed with an outside demon let alone allow it to take one of their own, especially a newborn."

Amon shrugged a shoulder sheepishly. "Maybe dad made an agreement with them – They _did_ live in our backyard."

"And you grew up next to them? Have you ever met a member of the tribe?"

He shook his head once. "Dad was adamant I never go near them. I was afraid they would attack me, so I stayed away."

Yukio smiled at him, but it lacked sincerity. "You've stopped stuttering."

"Oh... I-I guess," he blushed.

"Did he ever mention anything about why you were born?" Rin asked carefully.

Amon felt a chill at his strange question. "N-No... I never really asked him."

The brothers exchanged a look and Yukio nodded curtly. Rin took in a deep breath, held it, and then sighed heavily. "Your father and I had a meeting last night. We were discussing your progress in class and he told me that," he stopped, unable to look in Amon's eyes. "Once your powers fully develop..." Another pause. He had to do this. He _had_ to tell Amon the truth. If he didn't, it might cost the boy his life. "He's going to kill you and take your body as his host," he said it as calmly as he could, but there was still a desperate edge to his voice.

The room fell eerily silent as the Okumura twins watched Amon, waiting for his response.

"...You're lying," he finally mumbled.

"No, Amon. I'm not," Rin said slowly, knowing the boy would react like this.

All the negative emotions that seemed to be quelled by their nostalgic conversation suddenly sprang back to life in his chest. "I-I don't believe you." He struggled to keep his voice steady, however – He wouldn't let the anxiety and fear overwhelm him this time. "Dad would... He would _never_..."

"I'm sorry, Amon, but it's the truth. This is why he's so desperate for you to progress quickly. He's...tired of waiting." He reached across the table to offer comfort, but his fingers stopped short of Amon's, as if the touch might be unwelcome. "I'm _so_ sorry. I... I know how it feels to lose a father, and I know nothing I can say will make things better." Yukio listened to their exchange quietly, staring at the contents of his cup with feigned interest.

Amon thought about it before he shook his head. "No... No! You're lying! It's not true!"

"Amon-"

"_Liar_!" He heard his own voice as if from a distance, astonished and anguished and pained. "It's not-! D-Dad-!"

"Your father is a demon, a monster," Yukio finally spoke, his tone hard and disapproving. "Demons thrive off the suffering of others. How is something like this difficult to believe? You've been studying them for four months, Amon – You _know_ what they're capable of. Especially a demon king like Amaimon. He-"

"_SHUT UP_!" Amon jumped to his feet, slamming his fists on the table and spilling their tea. "_DON'T YOU_ DARE _TALK ABOUT MY DAD LIKE THAT_!" he screamed, showing an almost demonic temper the twins had never seen in him. "You're wrong! You don't know him like I do! Dad wouldn't-!" He clenched his fists tighter, nails biting into his palms. "Dad..."

Rin could see his smoldering anger dissipate as the reality of his words sank in. "_I'm sorry_. I wish I knew the right things to say..." his voice trailed off.

"Dad..." He trembled, on the verge of tears, but he forced them back. "I-It's... It's true...isn't it?" Amon slowly sat down on the bench, eyes locked on his hands. "Dad...wants to kill me?" The impossibility of Rin lying suddenly felt so real, so tangible, that it made him sick.

It turned into an intense wave of terror – a guttural, primal feeling. He had feared this moment since the day he was accepted into True Cross Academy, the moment when his incompetence would push dad over the edge. It was the terror of knowing he was powerless, and that, because of this, dad wanted to kill him.

At that moment, he hated his apprehension, these human emotions that separated him from the other demons, that caused him to be weak. He wished he could stop feeling, become heartless and uncaring, like a true demon, like dad.

_I'm a failure_, he thought numbly.

"Amon, look at me." Rin called, leaning forward, arms on the tabletop. The boy complied and raised his head. His face had gone an awful shade, a sort of greenish-white, and there was a haunted fear in his eyes. "If you want, you can move in here with us and continue your education. I won't let _anyone_ hurt you – I swear on my life."

Amon didn't hear him – He was too tense, too shocked, to hear anything but the blood pounding in his ears. "...Mr. Okumura?" his voice was mild and quiet. "You're our counselor, right? You're supposed to give us advice, right?"

"Yes," he sounded uncertain.

"Then...tell me... What do I do now?" He buried his pale face in his hands, speaking against his fingers, muffling his voice. "What do I do now that I know my entire existence has been a lie?"

"I-I..." Rin scrambled for something to say. "I don't know... You...should live for yourself, not your father."

"Myself? I was bred to be a host, an empty shell, what does it matter how _I_ live?" He made a whimpering sound in his throat and moved his hands away. "Did you have to tell me this, Mr. Okumura? I would have died happily believing the delusions I've created in my mind...believing that I was loved and not worthless. But now... I have nothing to hide behind, nothing to look forward to, nothing to hope for." He pushed himself to his feet. "My dad never loved me..."

"Amon, please, sit down."

He backed away to the door. "_You ruined my life_."

Rin flinched, feeling a stab of pity that took the breath out of his lungs. "I... Amon, I... I didn't..." He stood, wanting to follow, but Yukio placed a firm hand on his shoulder, holding him in place. Rin watched Amon leave in silence, unable to find the motivation to break away from his brother's grasp.

* * *

Asterius was studying his college textbook at the kitchen table when he walked in. "It's late," he said, not looking up from his notes. "Where have you been?"

"Aniue needed me to do something." Amaimon glanced around once. "Where's Amon?" Asterius nodded to the back door. "Is he asleep?"

"He's had a rough day – Try not to wake him up." He turned a page.

The demon inclined his head, curiosity piqued by the minotaur's tone. "What happened?"

Asterius hesitated, finally looking up at him. "Nothing." Amaimon shrugged, as if he didn't care, and began toward the door. "Amaimon."

"What?"

"Don't force it out of him. He'll tell you when he's ready."

Normally, Amaimon would have snapped at him for trying to control how he handled his son, but, surprisingly, he only nodded.

Amon was slumped in a chair under a light on their back porch, his legs up, knees resting lazily against the chair's armrest, one of his stupid human fantasy novels held loosely in his hand. His breath was steady and even and his face looked peaceful and relaxed. Amaimon discarded of the book, slid his arm under his knees, and carried him into the house, down the cramped hallway, and into his room. He placed Amon on the bed gently, pulling the thin blanket up to his chin – just the way he liked it. Amaimon turned to leave, but paused when he heard his son shift.

"Dad...?" Amon mumbled in his sleep, rubbing his face into the cool pillow.

The demon tiptoed back to him and knelt to his level. He brushed Amon's disheveled fringe out of his closed eyes. "I'm here, Amon," he whispered, fingertips tracing the curve of his cheek. "I'll always be here..."


	6. Chapter 6

_Amon could no longer stay at the hospital. Though his injuries from the fall had healed, his lungs were still feeble and he required almost constant attention to keep alive. The doctor told him the child wouldn't live through the winter, and had no desire to waste more precious resources on what was already dead. So, Amaimon took his son, stole a couple of machines, and fled to Aniue's mansion at the top of True Cross Town._

_But even big brother didn't want anything to do with his dying child._

_And yet, despite his dislike for the little beast, Mephisto eventually gave in to his pleas and allowed the boy to live in a room in the basement, far away from him and anyone else who might happen upon the residence._

_Asterius did what little he could: teaching the boy to read and write to keep his mind off his inevitable death, but, even with two adult demons constantly caring for him, Amon's condition deteriorated quickly. It wasn't long until Amaimon sought out Aniue's help again._

_Mephisto frowned at his brother's request. "You want me to save his life? Why?" he dragged out the word, his voice low and menacing. Amaimon had no answer, at least not one that would satisfy him, and remained silent. He snorted, disgusted and disappointed. "Don't tell me it's because you _love_ that pathetic whelp?"_

_"Demons don't love." His response was automatic and meaningless – He was hardly aware he said it._

_He narrowed his eyes, suspicious of his belief in those words. "Then, dear brother, why is he still alive? Why is he here?" His voice raised as his temper flared at Amaimon's silence. "Why is this _thing_ in my bed? In my manor? In my world? Why are you protecting him!?"_

_"He's my new host!" he blurted the words out quickly, knuckles white as he clenched his fists._

_"Oh?" Mephisto chuckled and grinned mischievously. "That's a relief. I was worried you might have gone soft on me, little brother."_

_Amaimon averted his eyes, staring down at Amon as the machines forced him to breathe. "Of course not."_

**Chapter Six  
****Aftershocks**

Amon arrived at the bus stop a few minutes late and hid himself from the other exwires, too upset to face his friends. He didn't want to be here, didn't see the point in training to be an exorcist when his life no longer had meaning. But, like always, Asterius-niisan had convinced him to come, to pack, and to continue living in spite of the truths he now knew. He leaned his head back and watched the puffy, white clouds float lazily by in the predawn light, wishing...wishing that...

Wishing that he could disappear, that he was invisible to the rest of the world, that he never existed.

But why even bother to hope for something so impossible? It wouldn't make dad love him, so what was the point? It was meaningless. Everything was so utterly meaningless.

"Amon, are you okay?"

His gaze shifted to Jinx as she leaned over the railing of the staircase to get a better look at him. Amon had shoved himself between the concrete steps and well-maintained foliage, crouched to the ground with his legs up to his chest and his bag beside him. "I'm fine," he mumbled, resting his chin on his knees.

"...Are you sure?" she asked in a soft, concerned voice. "Did something happen?" Silence. "Do you want to talk about it?" Nothing. "Oh, hey – Jun just got here, let's go say hi to him!" He was no longer listening to her, instead staring vacantly at a dead leaf as he twirled it in his hand. She sighed and left him alone to brood.

_What am I doing here? Why am I wasting my time learning anything?_ He buried his face in his hands and swallowed the urge to cry. _No more tears, Amon. They won't make things better._

"Amon, get out of there," Yukio-sensei stopped to scold him as he walked by. He obeyed, slowly pulling himself to his feet and brushing the dirt off his pants. "Did you check in with Rin yet?" He shook his head, fidgeting with the strap of his bag as he held it. "Do you at least have your permission slip signed?" A nod. Yukio-sensei, however, wasn't satisfied by his silent response. "Come on, let's go." He gestured to the bus that would take the exwires to the Lower Heights for their camping trip.

"Good morning, Amon!" Jun smiled brightly when he approached the group of waiting students. Jinx frowned at him. "How was your vacation?"

"Fine..."

His brow knit together at his dreary tone. "What's wrong?"

_Everything..._

"Nothing. I'm...nervous."

"Never been camping before? Don't worry – It's fun!" His grin widened. "Once, our family went up north for the weekend-"

Amon watched him continue with feigned interest and a stoic expression.

Nothing mattered to him anymore, not even his friends. Everything he did, everything he thought, seemed wrong now, as if he could no longer find joy in his meaningless life. It was foolish to live his last months like this, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Not when everything he lived for had been a lie.

"Amon? Hellooo, are you there?"" Jinx gently tapped his shoulder, causing him to recoil in surprise. He tripped over his feet and fell hard on to his backside, grabbing the attention of nearby students and, unfortunately, Yukio-sensei. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" She bent down to help him up.

"Amon!" Yukio-sensei snapped. "Where is your permission slip?"

"I-I... I-It's... I-I-I..."

The teacher made a disapproving face at his stuttering. "You were doing so well with your speech, Amon..." The boy's cheeks turned red with embarrassment.

"That's enough, Yukio!" Rin-sensei pulled his twin away from the exwires and forced him against the waiting bus. "Stop picking on him! Here," he shoved a clipboard into his hand. "Do something useful for once and make sure everyone is ready." Yukio-sensei narrowed his eyes, but said nothing as his brother released him.

"Jinx, Jun?" They looked up from a trembling Amon. "I'll take it from here. Wait for us on the bus, okay?" The two nodded and Jinx gave Amon one more reassuring pat before leaving them alone. Rin-sensei crouched down to his level with a small sigh. "How have things been for you, Amon?" he asked quietly.

"Terrible." His throat was so dry it almost hurt to speak. "Everything is so _terrible_, Mr. Okumura."

He reached out to touch his shoulder, but stopped when the boy flinched. "Try not to worry about that for now okay? Focus on having fun with your friends!" He could think of nothing else to say. "Don't worry, Amon – I'll be there to protect you." Amon didn't look at him. If he was offended by his presence or anything he said, he hid it incredibly well. "Uh," Rin-sensei nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "D-Do you have your permission slip?"

Without a word, Amon opened his bag and dug through it. He paused when his fingers brushed against something hard at the bottom of his bag. It felt like a book – But he was certain he left all his books at home... Curious and confused, he pulled it out, forgetting about Rin-sensei for the moment.

It was an old, light brown photo album from Gehenna. Attached to the top by a rubber band was a small note from Asterius-niisan. It read: '_I should have been the one to tell you. I'm sorry, Amon. I hope this makes up for everything._'

Slowly, Amon pulled off the band to find a picture of Amaimon cradling an infant wrapped tightly in his tattered jacket. He was staring at the baby adoringly and, though he didn't smile, he could see a faint happiness glittering in dad's eyes. Just below the small picture on the cover was his name in large, green lettering. He ran his fingers up and down its spine, tears forming in his eyes.

He was reminded of Rin-sensei when he spoke. "He looks so happy... A father wouldn't look at his son like that and want him to die, Amon." The half-demon didn't know if what he said was true – Amaimon was a difficult person to read – but Amon needed to hear those words, to hear something to give him confidence, to give him hope.

Amon looked back down at the album and smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Okumura."

Rin-sensei grinned and messed his hair, making his spike bristle like broccoli. "Seriously, though, I need that permission slip."

"O-Oh, right!" Filled with a renewed energy, Amon quickly shoved the book back into his bag and dug out a folded sheet of paper signed by Asterius-niisan.

"Great! Now let's get going. We have a _lot_ of walking to do!"

* * *

When the bus dropped the exwires off, the sun was high above them, beating down relentlessly. There, just outside the entrance to the forest, they met up with a handful of upperclassmen, second-year students who had received their licenses a few days ago and had volunteered to assist the Okumura twins during the summer break.

The forest before them was dauntingly huge, taking up most of the lower district of True Cross Town. Yukio-sensei would lead the group a mile into the foliage to a clearing that had been used by exwires multiple times over the years. It was, apparently, nestled in a part of the forest where high-level demons rarely roamed. The hike would take them the better part of the day since they had such a large number of students to keep track of.

The remnants of True Cross Town dwindled at their backs and soon disappeared behind the tall foliage as the group ventured deeper. Amon had never been on his own in a forest this large before. It was a completely different world; different sounds, different smells, an entirely different atmosphere, even for someone who grew up in an extravagant garden. Small rays of sunlight poked through the dense leaves and branches, but did little to protect the students from the heat. Trees towered above him everywhere he looked – There were oaks, maples, birch, and even a few elms. They were all various sizes: some were as thin as sticks while others were almost as wide as Amon. The forest floor felt thick under his feet, covered with dried leaves, weeds, tree roots, and scattered pinecones.

Amon, a child of earth, should have felt at peace in such a serene, beautiful place, but he couldn't take his mind off Amaimon. He thought back to his childhood, struggling to remember his dad showing any sign of hatred or hostility. But all he had were happy memories – Times when he would take Amon flying through the treetops, evenings when they roasted sausages over an open, blue flame, the day when dad and Behemoth taught him how to catch hobgoblins, nights when he told him bedtimes stories. And now, with this photo book…

When had all that changed? What had he done to make dad hate him? There _had_ to be something he was missing, but Amon couldn't figure out what it was.

A couple hours into their hike, Yukio allowed the group to stop for a quick break by a small waterfall. Rather than spend his free time with Jun and Jinx, Amon stood near the cliff to watch the water as it trickled down over black rocks into a small pool below. He sipped on his bitter tea, lost in his thoughts.

Dad had a fountain just like this in the center of their foyer. Once, as a child, Amon had climbed into it, thinking it would be a fun place to take a bath. Amaimon didn't scold him for it; instead he used the soft, green tuft of his tail to scrub the dirt off Amon's face.

It took the large group another hour of hiking in the unforgiving heat to reach their destination. Sweating and exhausted, the exwires were split into three groups to prepare the campsite: one to pitch the tents, one to redraw the protection barrier that had faded, and one to set up the cooking area and gather wood for a fire. Amon was struggling to shove a wire into the rustling fabric of a tent when Jun came over to help.

"Thanks." He held up the other side of the tent as Amon forced the pole in.

"Amon…are you feeling okay?" Jun asked, brow knit together in a concerned frown. "You've been really quiet today."

All these probing questions were beginning to annoy him. He knew his friends were worried that he was acting out of character, but he didn't want to constantly be reminded of what made him so upset. "I'm fine!" he said it with more bite than he intended and made Jun's expression turn solemn. He sighed once they were done with the tent. "Jun, I… I'm sorry. I'm just…really tired from walking."

"O-Oh," he smiled meekly. "Me too…"

By the time they were done, Amon's hands were blistered and sore. He poked at the raw skin tentatively as he waited for his turn at the kitchen. The tent for their cooking area was large, with four portable stoves set out upon two long tables. Rin-sensei occupied one of them, preparing a large pot of beef curry for a majority of the students. Some of the half-demons, however, didn't care for Assiah food, and so the other three stoves were used by the students to prepare their individual meals.

A handful of them had brought cold sandwiches or nonperishable food, but dad had prepared a large steak marinated in dragon spices from a small fishing village that bordered the Styx River. His mouth watered at the thought of juicy, tender meat and he realized that, in the midst of his depression, he hadn't eaten properly for almost a week. When the next stove was free, Amon immediately jumped up to claim it. He eagerly dug his Basilisk steak out of the cooler and busied himself with preparing the pan and small stove.

Amon joined Jun and Jinx at the bonfire, carrying a plate full of delicious, black meat. Jinx's face scrunched up as soon as she caught sight of his steak. "Ew, what are you eating?"

He took a large bite. "Ballisisch."

"...What?"

Amon covered his mouth with a napkin as he chewed. "Basilisk."

Yata seemed to perk up at the word. "How did you get that?"

"Dad hunted it."

"Demons hunt!?" Jun leaned forward to make eye contact with him. "C-Can _you_ hunt, Amon?"

He lowered his fork and shook his head. "I'm not strong enough and I make too much noise."

"Figures a loser like you couldn't even take on a Basilisk," Darius snorted at him from the other side of the fire pit. Amon tried to ignore him, but his insult made the steak turn sour in his mouth.

"Be nice, Darius," Rin-sensei warned, giving the Iblis demon a hard glance.

He shrugged in response. "I'm just being honest, Okumura-sensei. Part of being an exorcist is learning how to track and approach your enemy."

Yukio-sensei placed his fork down on his empty plate. "He's right, nii-san. It's why we're referred to as 'demon _hunters_' in other countries."

"See?" Darius grinned. "A bad hunter is a bad exorcist."

"Why did _you_ want to become an exorcist, Darius?" Amon was surprised when Jun snapped at him. "To hunt and kill your own kind? Or to help people?"

His expression darkened. "I became an exorcist to be a better demon. Same as you, right Amon?"

He flinched when the students turned their eyes to him, shoulders rising slightly as he tensed. "_I_ became an exorcist," Jinx started, drawing attention away from him, "to prove how much better I am than all of you!" She smiled at Amon and took his hand. He mouthed a silent 'thanks' and awkwardly pulled his fingers out of her warm grasp. She frowned, but he wasn't looking at her anymore.

"I wanted to be an exorcist to break out of tradition," Jun said. "My family is filled with snobby lawyers and I didn't want to be one of them, so I signed up for cram school." He paused and lowered his voice. "Even though I was terrified of demons when I started... I learned that not all demons are cruel and blood thirsty." He smiled at Amon.

"I thought it would be fun to try new things and meet other people like me." Illustri had her messy, cyan hair pulled back into a high ponytail, revealing more of her pale face. "I've always wanted to ironically tell people my job is to slaughter my brethren."

Rin-sensei frowned. "That's a bit vicious, Illustri."

She shrugged. "Demons will be demons."

"I want to avenge my sister's death." "I want to be useful to my family." "I'll become a better exorcist than my father!" Soon enough, all the students were sharing their reasons for signing up for cram school, some more personal than others. Amon pressed his lips together and contented himself with watching. He didn't have a reason or a good enough excuse, and didn't want to embarrass himself again.

"Alright everyone, listen up!" Yukio stood suddenly and raised his voice to grab everyone's attention. "Your mission will begin at two in the morning – Which gives you five hours to take a nap. I suggest you all try to get some rest."

The exwires talked among each other for another hour before they slowly began to stir, tossing out their paper plates and plastic utensils and digging their luggage out from the unorganized pile. Amon found his bag and made his way to the tent he would be sharing with Jun on the far side of the camp near the border of the chalk barrier. Jun followed hesitantly. Together, they quietly rolled out their sleeping bags, avoiding conversation and eye contact.

"I'm sorry," Amon said finally. He couldn't help but feel guilty, responsible for Jun's silence.

He looked up. "Sorry for what?"

"For snapping at you earlier." He shrugged, as if dismissing his apology. "Jun, uh, t-thanks for sticking up for me when Darius-"

Jun held up a hand to stop him. "You don't have to thank me, Amon – We're friends, remember? Friends help each other! I'm not going to let anyone pick on you, and I know you would do the same for me!" His smile was bright and kind, but Amon knew he was a terrible friend.

He didn't deserve Jun's smiles – or anyone else's for that matter.

* * *

Amon was burning when he woke, his blanket tightly wrapped around him. He squirmed out of his sleeping bag, kicking as it stuck to his legs, and wiped the sweat off the back of his neck. Jun was still fast asleep, and the camp was silent, the exwires sleeping in their small tents. He dug out his phone and checked the time – one in the morning. The students were supposed to be up in another hour for their assignment.

Restless, Amon pulled the photo album out of its hiding spot. He ran his fingers over the lettering on the cover before sitting up and slowly easing it open. The first picture immediately brought a small smile to his face.

_Amon's first day._

Amaimon held a wrinkled baby in his hands, so new to the world that his eyes were still closed. He turned the page.

_Amon's first bottle._

Dad was struggling to hold both baby and bottle at the same time, and the sight made Amon chuckle.

_Amon's first toy._

An infant Amon was snuggled against Amaimon's chest, a stuffed, white naga held tight in his tiny fists.

Every picture after consisted of 'firsts' – his first bath, his first fang, his first steps, his first hunting trip, his first taste of meat, his first pet hobgoblin, his first clay warrior... And, in each picture, dad looked happy. He never smiled, but there was compassion in his eyes that Amon recognized. He wanted to believe Rin-sensei, that dad wouldn't look at him with those eyes if he wanted to kill him.

And then he came across the last page, and his breath caught in his throat. It was a profile picture of a woman. Thick black hair fell in soft ringlets around her shoulders, complimenting her tanned skin and loving expression. He looked just like her – They had the same wide, brown eyes, the same round cheeks dad hated, the same black eyebrows, even the same gentle slope to their noses.

She was beautiful, just like he imagined her.

"Hi, mom," he whispered, fingertips lightly tracing the photo. "It's me...I finally get to meet you. Dad's been taking great care of me, and I'm doing well in school. I'm in the top ten percentage of students." He paused, his bottom lip trembling. "If you were still here...would you be proud of me? Mom?"

Amon didn't realize he was crying until he blinked, shedding lose a tear that hit Nymeria's photo without a sound.

* * *

Dawn was still several hours away when the twins began to rouse the camp. Outside, the night was black and still, the sky dotted with winking stars. Amon stared at them as the other students pulled themselves from their sleep, wondering if mom liked to watch the night sky too.

Thirty minutes later, the exwires were split into eleven groups of three and one of two. Amon was with Jun and Jinx. Rin-sensei passed out backpacks to each group as Yukio-sensei explained their task.

"There are lanterns hidden around the forest at a radius of five hundred meters. Your job is to find them, light them, and then bring them back here. However, there are only six lanterns, so only half of you will pass." Rin-sensei handed Jinx a bag. "In these backpacks are supplies your team will need along with one flare gun. You will only use it in an emergency."

Yukio-sensei held up an orange flare. "The orange one will alert your upperclassmen. Use it if you are injured or come across a demon you can't fight." He held up a blue flare in the other hand. "Blue will bring either me or Rin to your location. Use it if you come across a high-level demon or are fatally injured."

Rin-sensei moved to stand beside him. "Any group that shoots off a flare will be disqualified, so use them wisely."

"We will be able to see the lanterns as soon as you light one," Yukio-sensei continued. "If you approach the base before lighting it, or if it goes out on your way back, you will be disqualified."

Jinx grinned and stretched. "This is going to be _way_ too easy!"

Amon frowned, brow furrowed. "I don't like the way he says 'lantern'."

"Me either," Jun agreed. "You think it's a trick?"

"Pssh, please." Jinx slipped the backpack over her shoulders. "Even if the lantern is a demon, how hard can it be?"

"You have until the sun rises over the treetops." Rin-sensei held up a starter pistol. "Ready?" The groups scrambled to pick their directions, some arguing about where to start. He didn't wait for them. "Go!" A loud _bang_ echoed throughout the camp and the exwires scattered.

Amon struggled to keep up with his group. "Come on!" Jinx glanced over her shoulder at him. He answered her with a wet cough.

Eventually, they had to stop and wait for him to catch his breath. Though the forest air was easier on him, running still made his heart pound and his lungs burn. He coughed into a tissue and was surprised to find it was stained black. A spark of worry flitted through him at the sight, but Jinx's hand on his back made him instantly forget.

"Are you alright? Do you want to go back?"

"N-No!" he stammered loudly. He didn't want to ruin his friends' chances of winning. "I'm... I'm fine. I-I... Give me a minute," he spoke through strained gasps. "Why don't you two go ahead? I'll catch up."

"We're _not_ leaving you, Amon." Jun said, his tone hard. He took him by the arm to steady him. "We'll walk."

Jinx hesitated, but nodded. "I don't think I saw anyone else come this way. We should be okay as long as there's a lantern in this direction."

They slowly stumbled along, balancing Amon between them and carefully stepping over tree roots and weeds. "Stop... S-Stop!"

"What?"

"Do you hear that?"

_Thump Thump Thump_

"Hear what?" Jun paused. "I don't hear anything."

_Of course they can't hear it, idiot._ Amon mentally scolded himself. _Jun is a human and not all half-demons have the ability to sense other auras._

"T-This way!" He broke free from their grasps and half-jogged to the right. The two followed quickly, watching curiously as he paused every few steps to listen for the beating. He led them into a clearing that had a few toppled trees, an empty riverbed, and an old, decaying bridge. Across the gap sat a large, stone lantern.

"A peg lantern! Amon, you're a genius!"

"How are we going to get it across this bridge?" Jun peered over the edge into the chasm below. "There's no way it can hold our weight let alone the lantern's."

Amon stood beside him and looked down. It appeared to be a six-foot drop, but he couldn't see the bottom. "Wait...something isn't right..."

_DOOM DOOM DOOM_

"That... That sounds like Beelzebub..."

Jinx made a face. "You mean it's a _bug_!?"

"Where's it coming from?" Jun glanced around. "I don't see anything."

_"Amaimon... You've returned!"_

She flinched at the sound of a deep, guttural voice. "What was that!?"

"You heard it too!?" Amon frantically looked around for the source.

"H-Heard what?" Demonic voices were beyond Jun's range of hearing.

"Hey, b-be careful!" But Amon was deaf to Jinx's words. He stepped on to the first rotted, wooden board of the bridge, trying to get a better look at the pit below.

He turned back to them. "I think it's coming from down here!"

"Amon, behind you!" Jinx screamed his name just before he felt something warm and thin wrap around his waist. A tentacle-like appendage lifted him high into the air and spun him around, bringing him face-to-face with a large, demonic moth. He was paralyzed with fear and couldn't manage anything but a terrified whimper. A _bang_ sounded behind him and orange smoke filled the air.

_"SKREEK! Traitor!"_

"N-No! M-My name is A-Amon!" He struggled to breathe as the beast tightened its grip on him. "Amaimon is...my father..."

_"You are his kin? Perfect."_ It hissed at him, flapping its massive wings. _"Killing you will avenge my fallen children!"_ The demon threw him into the bridge, causing the wood to explode into splinters. It lifted him up and laughed as it swung his battered body back and forth in the air. _"Suffer, son of Amaimon."_

"...Da... D-Dad..."

Jun pressed his fingers together and started to stumble over the beginning words to a prayer. Jinx covered his mouth with her hand, scowling at him. "What are you doing!? You can't use Aria with me and Amon here!"

"T-Then what do we do!?"

Jinx pulled a summoning circle out of her pocket, bit her thumb, and froze. Her hand trembled just above the paper, a small droplet of blood dripping down her wrist. She tried to speak, to call one of her familiars, but all that came out was a frightened sob as she watched the demon slam Amon against a large tree.

_Don't stand there… Run_, he wanted to say, but he couldn't find his voice.

"Amon!" He looked down to find Yata making his way out of the brush with his bat glowing, but the moth was far too high for him to reach. He cursed loudly and glanced around for something. Both Jun and Jinx were petrified, unable to do anything other than watch helplessly.

_Senpai, get them out of here! Please – Save them!_

Yata fired the blue flare at the demon, but the smoke only made it angrier.

_"Die, kin of earth!"_

Amon didn't have time to scream – The ground was coming up too quickly. Blood splattered around his head as his body made contact with the wet undergrowth. When the moth lifted his lifeless body up again, blood ran down his face from a gash on his forehead, slowly dripping off his chin. It was black in the pale moonlight.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Hi! Before you start reading, please note that in this chapter I've decided to write PoV changes between Amai and Amon. I've never done this before and I wanted to make the switches subtle so they wouldn't break the flow (as opposed to putting Amon's PoV, Amai's PoV, etc.) Please let me know if it's too distracting. Also, big thank you to Yoko-zuki10 and DarkestDemonsInTheSoul for all of your reviews! You two are amazing and I wish I could show my appreciation better. Thank you so much!

This chapter is a bit of a rollercoaster, so I hope it makes up for the previous one (which was incredibly boring imho) Enjoy!

* * *

__Amaimon dropped down from the light post, landing on the sidewalk in front of his new house. He dug a lollipop out of his pocket, tore the wrapper off with his teeth, and shoved it in his mouth. "Dad, over here!" Amon waved at him from the tall gate that led into their backyard. "Come look what I made!"__

__With an exhausted sigh, the earth king followed him to a small flowerbed with freshly planted roses. They blossomed beautifully, just like the ones back home in Gehenna. He crouched down to examine Amon's work up close. "Did you do all this by yourself?"__

_"_What do you think? Do you like it?" He asked the question eagerly, bouncing impatiently on his heels.__

__At eleven, Amon should have been able to cause earthquakes and build forests, but the boy was developing incredibly slowly for a demon prince. Even so, Amaimon didn't want to ruin his confidence. "It's very pretty – Good job." He reached out to praise the boy with a pat on his head, but stopped short, an image of Aniue's disappointed face flashing in his mind.__

__Demons don't love.__

__Amaimon lowered his arm and turned away.__

_"_Here, dad – You can have one!" Amon firmly grabbed a rose around its stem and squeaked in pain when the thorns dug into his flesh. Black blood oozed out of his palm when he pulled his hand back. ____He watched with astonished silence as a thick drop trickled slowly down his arm.__

__Suddenly, Amaimon snatched his wrist an wiped the blood from his hand. "No more flowers! Do you understand!?" he shouted, his voice filled with a trembling ferocity. "Flowers won't make you powerful!"__

_"_B-But... I-I..."__

_"_Do you understand me!?" He yanked hard on the boy's arm.__

_"_Y-Yes, da-dad!" he sobbed.__

**Chapter Seven  
****Realization**

Amaimon sprinted through the forest, twigs beating at him, wet leaves sticking to his jacket, wind ruffling his green hair, but he ignored all of it, focused on only one thing. He landed on a thick branch and launched himself high into the air, arching over the treetops and toward the moth-like guardian of the forest. A spasm of anger rippled across his face at the sight of Amon limp in the demon's tongue, crushing him, waving his body around like a toy.

_So, Aniue,_ this_ was why you wanted me to check on Amon._ But Mephisto was wrong – death had not caused his son's powers to emerge. Amaimon knew it wouldn't and, yet, he still allowed Aniue to torture Amon, afraid of what would happen to him if he didn't agree.

Guilt only served to fuel his anger.

He twisted midair, changing direction, and dove, slicing the appendage in half and freeing Amon from its suffocating grasp. The beast screamed in surprise, frantically flapping its large, brown wings as it collapsed into the trench below.

Amaimon caught him just before he hit the ground and gently placed the boy on the dew-covered grass. He pressed his thumb to Amon's wrist, concerned by how cold he felt, but relieved to feel the slow, steady beat of his heart. Demons didn't die easily, and Amon was no excuse.

Behemoth jumped down from his back, sniffing at the unconscious prince curiously. Amaimon covered the freezing boy with his tattered jacket – after shaking all the leaves free – and began to examine his wounds. Thankfully, Amon had no serious injuries other than the gash on his head. He tried to brush the hair out of his eyes, but it was stuck to his forehead with blood, thick and black. Amaimon searched his pockets for something to use as a bandage and realized he had nothing on him that would stop the bleeding. Behemoth snorted, acknowledging his master's apprehension, and tugged gently on his tie.

"...Good idea." He removed it and wrapped it tightly around Amon's head. It wasn't practical, but it would do for now.

"I-Is he g-going to be okay?" Amaimon raised his eyes to find three exorcists – Amon's friends, he assumed – nervously watching him from a distance.

He stood, causing them to scramble back even further. One of them tightly gripped a bat glowing with an enchantment, standing protectively in front of the other two. They were obviously human, and the very sight made hatred lance through him, hot and familiar. If it weren't for these _pathetic, bubble-like beings_ slowing him down, Amon would have had the strength to protect himself.

Amaimon growled under his breath, but the sound of flapping wings quickly quieted him. "Behemoth, protect," he commanded, removing the hobgoblin's collar. He turned to face the moth again.

_"You actually came to save your whelp? I wouldn't expect something so compassionate from a demon king, especially you."_

He ignored the hurt the demon's words caused, suppressed it like so many other things. "Why did you attack my son?"

It hissed at him. _"You promised me revenge! But, instead, I was sealed into this bridge. I will make you pay, king of earth."_

Amaimon inclined his head, as if considering the demon's words. "I don't remember that..." He paused to shrug. "I only remember important things, so I guess you're not important." He didn't give the moth a chance to reply and flicked his hand, summoning a large, thin spike made of earth from out of the riverbed. It impaled the guardian, killing it almost instantly. The force of his strike shook the air around him, startling the trio of exorcists.

He turned back to Amon and knelt beside him, checking to make sure his tie had stopped the bleeding. The earth king ground his teeth together as he raised his eyes to his son's 'friends', his countenance stony. It was odd how they looked at him, watched him, too terrified to flee. Amaimon must have appeared terrifying to them – crouched low, slivers of moonlight dancing over him, Amon's dark blood staining his hands. Their reactions made him feel perversely satisfied.

"Amon!" The girl, cheeks stained with tears, stepped forward, but the blond pulled her back. "He needs medical attention! Let us take him back to camp!"

"It's _your_ fault this happened," he growled lowly, letting his irritation show. "What makes you think I would let you take him after what you did?"

Stunned, she opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a dry, choking sound. "We w-wouldn't... H-He... A-Amon is our f-friend!" The blond human spoke up, his entire body shaking violently.

"Our fault?" The one with the bat glared intently at him. "We were trying to save him! If anyone is to blame, it's you!"

Rage erupted within him and, unable to control his impulsive behavior, he lunged forward, determined to kill them all, as if their deaths could make up for Amon's vulnerability. He twisted himself out of his attack as the exorcist swung the bat. The earth king hit the ground and rolled, throwing himself back up to his feet. His clothes sparkled with dew in the moonlight.

"Senpai, stop!" But he ignored the other two and darted forward for another attack.

Amaimon snorted, disappointed by the human's predictable movements, and jumped into the air. He threw himself out of his dodge, dashed to the side, and grabbed the glowing bat, easily ignoring the slight pain caused by the enchantment. Amaimon ripped it out of his hand, bent it, and tossed it into the dried riverbed.

"You shouldn't play with dangerous toys," he said mockingly.

The boy tried to help his senpai to his feet, but immediately backed away when Amaimon approached again. Without hesitation, he kicked the black-haired exorcist hard in his chest, sending him flying back into the trees. He crashed into a thick trunk and slid to the ground, unconscious.

"Y-Yata!"

Amaimon turned his attention to the girl next. There was something familiar about her purple hair that he didn't like...

"Dad! Stop it!" He turned, surprised to find Amon on his feet and the bloodied tie in his hand. "Stop hurting my friends!"

"Stay out of this, Amon." Behemoth glanced between the two, uncertain of who to obey.

"No – I won't." The boy looked up at him, eyes seemingly glowing in the pale moonlight. Amaimon hated those eyes, so big and innocent – they revealed everything Amon was thinking, everything he was feeling. And, right now, they regarded him with resentment and anguish. He turned his head away, unable to face Amon's inevitable, piteous tears.

"Just listen to me-"

**. . .**

Amon hit him.

For once, he was too angry to care about anything, too infuriated to feel fear. He crouched into a fighting stance – the same one Rin-sensei had taught them – and spun, landing a hard kick on Amaimon's temple. The demon staggered, stunned, but Amon didn't let up. He kicked the back of his knees, tripping him, grabbed his shoulders, and slammed him into the ground. Amaimon stood quickly and attempted to block as he threw another punch. Amon feigned and lashed out with his other fist, catching him by surprise in the face again. And again. And again. Left, right, left, right.

Amaimon made no other attempts to stop him, letting Amon strike him over and over until he exhausted himself and his rage. Amon finally dropped to his knees, hot tears forming in his eyes. But he did his best to force them back and cling to his rage. Anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt.

"D-Dad... Is t-this what you want?" Despite how hard Amon tried to stay angry, it quickly diminished as Rin-sensei's words echoed in his mind. _He's going to kill you and take your body as his host..._

He turned his head and spat out a mouthful of blood. "Get up, Amon." He obeyed, sniffling loudly. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you want to...kill me?" he asked quietly.

Dad froze. "...Who told you that?"

Amon failed to keep his tears from falling. "M-Mr. Okumura said...you wanted to kill me and take my body as your new host. I... Is it true?" He raised his head tenuously, tears falling freely now, leaving lines of cleanliness on his cheeks, washing away the blood. "I-I don't want to die," he forced back a sob.

"I'm not going to kill you."

"D-Daddy...don't k-kill me!" Amon's resolve shattered and he fell to his knees, wailing.

**. . .**

Eventually, Amaimon spoke, his voice trembling uncharacteristically. "Amon... Stop..." He wanted to reach out, but caught himself. That familiar feeling returned to him, the instinctive urge to hold his child, comfort him, wipe away his tears, but he resisted it, Aniue's face flashing in his mind. _Demons don't love._ "Amon, stop crying. Please, stop..." His hands started to shake. "Stop... Don't cry..."

Amaimon watched him, shocked by how much the boy's reaction affected him. He shook his head in disbelief and stepped back.

No, he shouldn't be feeling this – he was a demon, powerful and terrifying – his hands shouldn't be shaking, his breath shouldn't be this ragged, his heart shouldn't be twisting uncomfortably in his chest. It was all wrong, unbelievable, impossible. So very _wrong_ and it frightened him. For what felt like the first time in his life, Amaimon was truly scared.

"D-Dad," Amon calmed himself and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He looked up, shame reflecting in his eyes, mud and dirt and blood staining his clothes. "I... I have to know," he paused to take a breath, prepare himself, as if he already knew the answer to his question before it was asked. "Do you love me? Do I... Do I make you happy?"

His eyes widened.

_Of course you do. I've never been happier._ The thought came to him unbidden, but it quieted him nonetheless. _Demons don't love._

His answer would change everything. He could say yes, tell him the truth and become one of the humans he so desperately hated. Or he could ignore him, turn and run, become a monster in his only child's eyes.

It didn't take him long to make his decision. Amaimon turned his back to Amon. Behemoth followed with a soft whimper.

_Life will be better like this for both of us..._ He tried to convince himself that this was the right choice, but Amon's questions still echoed in his ears. Amaimon hesitated, hopelessly resisting the temptation to turn back, to glance over his shoulder at Amon, the firstborn he was abandoning.

Asterius was right: Amaimon was a terrible father and Amon would only grow to hate him. This decision proved everything the minotaur said – that he was selfish, despicable, a failure. Amaimon was a demon, a killer and a hunter, not a parental figure. Why had it taken him so long to notice this? Why had he ignored Asterius?

Because he _liked_ being a father.

He liked being called 'dad'. He liked seeing a younger version of himself run around, learn, grow. He liked coming home each night to someone who cared about him – not because he was useful as a pawn in their game, but because they truly loved him. He liked teaching Amon everything he knew. He _liked_ being a father, even if everyone told him he was incapable of loving his child.

In the end, Amaimon was unable to take that final step, unable to walk out of Amon's life, to leave him behind.

"Dad? What are you doing?"

He knew he would come to regret it, but, in spite of this, he turned back to Amon, forcing himself to look at those big, brown eyes, so full of realization and terror.

"Daddy...don't leave me..."

Before he could make up his mind, movement from the trees caught his attention. He barely had enough time to throw himself in front of Amon before a gunshot broke the solemn silence of the forest. A second quickly followed and Amaimon felt the holy water explode in his chest, filling his senses with an intense pain. _Run!_ He wanted to shout, but nothing came out and the demon collapsed.

"_DAD!_" Amon screamed, crawling over to his fallen body and pressing both hands to the wound, ignoring the blood that seeped through his fingers. "Dad! Dad – Are you okay!?" The earth king grimaced in pain as he added more pressure to his injured chest, desperately trying to slow the bleeding. "Hang in there! You're going to be fine – it missed your heart."

Gathering all his remaining strength, Amaimon shoved him away. "_Run_," he coughed out weakly. He struggled to stay conscious, but couldn't fight it for long and eventually the world faded to black.

**. . . **

"Move away from him, Amon." Yukio-sensei stepped out of the shadows, pistol aimed at dad. Behemoth growled, but the young teacher ignored him. Behind him, Yata's injuries had been meticulously treated and, though he was still unconscious, was propped up carefully against a tree. Jun and Jinx were beside him, regarding Amon with fearful eyes.

Amon tried to ignore his burning guilt and stood protectively in front of dad, waving his hand to quiet Behemoth's angry growls. The hobgoblin was crouched low, prepared to attack at the prince's command. "I'm not going to let you hurt my dad, Mr. Okumura."

Yukio-sensei lowered his weapon slightly and smiled – a reaction that Amon didn't expect. "You've grown up so much in so little time, Amon. You used to tremble when I spoke to you, and now look at you: brave and determined. It's a shame I can't watch you mature more." He raised the gun, aiming at the boy's head. "Amaimon is a danger to my students. He needs to die. If you get in my way, I'll have to take you down with him."

"That's fine." He would rather die with dad than remain as an orphan in Assiah.

Amon wasn't afraid – he was ready to die. All things considered, he had lived an exceptionally pleasant life and had no regrets. He closed his eyes and focused on the beauty of the forest, the sound of rustling leaves, the memory of the waterfall, the smiling faces of his friends...

The gun fired and Amon felt no pain.

Shades of blue, vibrant and swirling, danced against his closed eyelids. He could feel their warmth, like the flame of a small candle, the sensation comforting as it enveloped his body.

Amon never realized death could be so peaceful, so pretty, so blue.

Slowly, he eased his eyes open, wondering if he would find himself back in Gehenna without a body, but he was still in Assiah, in the forest clearing, standing inches away from Rin-sensei's face. Satan's blue flames exploded from his body and drawn sword, wrapping around him, close enough to obscure his surroundings, but not touching. He smirked and Amon realized Rin-sensei had protected him from his brother's bullet.

"Why?" his voice was barely a whisper, but the flickering flames made no sound as they playfully licked at him, their faint heat soothing and relaxing.

"I wasn't able to save the relationship I had with my father, but _you_ still have that chance," he answered quietly. "I'm not going to let you die because of my brother. I promised you, didn't I? I won't let _anyone_ hurt you – including Yukio." Rin-sensei turned to face his brother. "Put the gun down."

Yukio-sensei didn't lower his weapon, a muscle in his jaw twitching with anger. "Move, nii-san."

Rin-sensei moved, but not in the way his brother expected. He threw his sheathe, faster than Yukio-sensei could react, propelling it forward with a brilliant burst of blue fire, and knocked the pistol out of his grasp. It landed a few feet to his right and bounced, disappearing into a thorned bush. The teacher hissed, flexing his fingers in an attempt to rid them of the sudden pain, and glared at Rin-sensei. He straightened his posture, pulling a second pistol from the holster at his back.

"I'm sorry. You _know_ I have to do this." He gestured to Yata with his free hand. "Amaimon lost control and almost killed a student. I can't let him go."

Rin-sensei shook his head, grabbing his sword with both hands. "The only one losing control is _you_, Yukio. Your hatred of demons has consumed you to the point where you can't see them as people anymore. You've treated _all_ our half-demon students like crap, not just Amon. Things are different now – Grow up."

Yukio-sensei gritted his teeth. "Get out of my way."

"Amon," Rin-sensei glanced over his shoulder. "Take Amaimon and run – I'll catch up with you."

"I-I can't."

"Amon, go!"

"I can't leave my friends!"

"Then move," Yukio-sensei demanded, voice tense. "I'll forget you were involved if you go back to camp."

"Move, Amon!" Jinx cried, fists clenched at her sides. "He doesn't love you! Come on – let's go back!"

"Amon, he just tried to abandon you!" Jun joined her, desperate to encourage him to leave his injured father to Yukio-sensei. "You're better without him! Remember all the times he wouldn't let you hang out with us? All the times he forced you to study? You told me you hated it, Amon! Remember? Please, come back with us!"

The two continued to call his name, giving excuses, calling dad a terrible father, but Amon shut them out. It wasn't true. None of it was true...right?

"What do you want to do, Amon? If you really want to leave Amaimon, I'll support you." Rin-sensei gave him a small, reassuring smile.

Amon lowered his eyes to dad, unconscious, and then Behemoth, purring quietly beside him. When had everything gone so wrong? Why couldn't he just be who he wanted to be? Not a human or a demon – Just Amon. Why was everyone so determined to label him? Why was he forced to choose between the two?

He just wanted to be Amon – shy, stuttery, powerless Amon. He wanted dad and his friends to be there with him.

"Mr. Okumura... My dad never hurt me, never abused me, never abandoned me... But, everyone says he's bad. What would you do? What would you do if everyone told you you were wrong, but you knew in your heart that you were right? What should I do, Mr. Okumura?"

Rin-sensei paused, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought. "I can't answer that for you, Amon. You have to take control of your life – You have to make your own decisions."

_But what if I make the wrong choice?_ He thought, clutching his hands to his chest, trying to relieve some of the building pressure and calm his labored breathing. _Is it... Is it really so bad to be wrong?_

Amon continued to stare at dad, completely absorbed in his thoughts. Everything felt so surreal, as if he were not quite there, as if he was watching his life from a distance, through a clouded looking glass. He could feel the numbed tension rising in his chest, the gentle heat of Satan's inherited flames, the soothing, nighttime wind, the burning gazes of his friends...

_It's okay to make mistakes._ Illustri's voice suddenly echoed in his mind. _It's okay to be wrong._

Realization instantly struck him. Amon finally understood what was happening in Amaimon's mind, why he had been so demanding all these years, and why he had finally hesitated in the end. He understood _everything_ and felt stupid for not seeing it earlier.

Dad loved him – He knew this.

But...

Dad loved him _too much_.

And it was destroying him.

**. . .**

He opened his eyes, fighting the burning haze of holy water, and saw Nymeria staring at him, her expression saddened and dissatisfied. Her wide eyes were red and puffy from crying.

No, it wasn't her... It was Amon.

His son looked down at him with disdain, disappointment, disgust. And why shouldn't he? He was going to leave his only son, the very child he raised for fifteen years. Why would Amon love him after what he tried to do? After his only parent almost abandoned him? No, of course he wouldn't love him anymore. It was foolish of him to think otherwise.

It hurt. Oh, did it hurt. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before, worse than silver bullets, worse than holy water, worse than Aniue's punishments. It felt like a wire covered in barbs was coiled around his heart, twisting and squeezing.

Amaimon knew he deserved it, this pain of loss. It almost made him want to laugh. All his life, he always assumed he would never experience these emotions. Regret and guilt were weaknesses, things of humans and lesser beings, not demons.

Because _demons don't love_.

Amon suddenly turned away and fear rippled through the earth demon.

He tried effortlessly to convince himself that he didn't care, that it was better if the child moved on without him. But, if he didn't care, then watching Amon walk away shouldn't be this painful. He shouldn't be struggling to pull himself up to his feet, to reach out for the boy before he left him alone forever – like his mother had.

"Amon!"

His son stopped and turned back, eyes wide with surprise and concern.

"...don't leave me..."


	8. Chapter 8

"_Happy birthday!" Asterius set his gift, neatly wrapped in light blue paper, on the kitchen table in front of Amon. The boy eagerly tore it open, having no regard for the minotaur's meticulous packaging efforts. Inside an unattractive shoebox was a collection of seeds: roses, tulips, pansies, snapdragons, mums, and lilies. A trovel sat at the bottom, buried under all the tiny, labeled packages. "This is to get you started on your garden," he explained as Amon happily examined the colorful pictures that came with the seeds._

"_Thank you so much, Asterius-niisan!" He jumped up to hug the minotaur, who patted him gently on the head with a small laugh._

"_I have something, too," Amaimon announced abruptly, irritated by the compassion his son showed the minotaur._

_Amon's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Meat pie!?"_

_The demon king rolled his eyes and left to fetch his present. Amaimon didn't want to be shown up by his servant, but, at the same time, he didn't know what to get Amon for his birthday. What did young demon boys like, anyway? He couldn't decide on an answer, and ended up purchasing the most generic present he could think of: a soft, brown teddy bear with a red ribbon tied around its neck._

_Amaimon didn't bother wrapping it like Asterius had, and just tossed the animal at Amon when he returned to the kitchen. "Here – happy birthday."_

_The boy fumbled and missed, the bear smacking him in the head. Asterius scooped it up, brow knit together in disappointment. "Amaimon, he's thirteen – he's too old to be playing with stuffed animals."_

"_No I'm not! Give it back!" The boy tried to snatch the bear out of his hand, but the minotaur raised it out of his reach at the last minute. Huffing in annoyance, Amon turned his attention to Amaimon. "Thanks for the bear, dad!" He jumped to his feet to give his father a hug._

_Amaimon shoved him away as his little arms wrapped around his chest. "Don't!" he commanded, scaring the preteen. "Don't you _ever_ touch me – understand!?"_

"_I-I'm sorry, d-dad. I-I f-forgot..." He slowly sat back down and accepted the toy when Asterius handed it back. Instead of hugging his father, he pressed the stuffed bear hard to his chest, burying his face in its soft fur, hiding his sullen frown and choking back his tears. "This is the best present ever! I love it!" His voice was muffled by stuffing and sadness, but Amaimon forced himself to ignore it._

**Chapter Eight  
****Acceptance**

Yukio-sensei was the next person to notice that Amaimon had regained consciousness. With his gun still aimed at dad's head, he pushed by Rin-sensei and hurried over to Amon, harshly pulling him back and grabbing his attention before he could find the strength to move his legs and help his staggering father. "M-Mr. Okumura! Pl-Please don't hurt him!"

"Grow up, Amon." Anger was plain on his face, but when he spoke his voice was quiet and calm. "You need to stop depending on him – Amaimon isn't going to be with you forever."

His cruel words twisted at his heart, echoed in his mind, a cacophony of noise that he couldn't quell no matter how hard he tried. Despite the hurt it caused him, he was _right_; Amon had grown to depend on dad too much, and Amaimon was suffering because of it. It was time he grew up, took responsibility for his own actions, and stopped acting like a child.

"You... Y-You're right. I... I think I understand now, Mr. Okumura."

"Good. Then go back with the others and let me handle this," he demanded drily. Yukio-sensei yanked on the boy's arm to encourage him, but he fought against his grasp.

"Wait! I-I don't want to lose my father – Give me a chance to talk to him. If I can't convince him, then..."

"You'll go back to camp," he finished for him, a bite in his tone. "And never mention Amaimon again."

Rin-sensei glared at his brother, flames dancing to the heat of his irritation. "Let's be reasonable, Yukio. You-"

Amon cut him off with a wave of his hand. "It's fine – I'll do it. I have to show dad that I don't need him anymore," he paused to lower his eyes and voice. "Or else we'll never be happy as a family..."

**. . .**

Amaimon battled a tide of pain and incoherence as he struggled to pull himself to his feet. He had difficulty holding his eyes open and his body swayed dangerously from side to side, but he suppressed it as best he could in his pitiful attempt to get to Amon.

Trembling hands finally caught him as he staggered forward. They wrapped around his shoulders, steadying him against a smaller body. He could smell blood, sick and coppery, and a comforting, familiar scent that could only belong to Amon. The burning haze of holy water was finally beginning to lift, though not quick enough for the earth king's liking. Through it, he could see Amon's big, brown eyes, tears and all, concerned and scared.

"Dad – You're okay!" He ignored the waver in his voice and forced a smile, a thin attempt at bravado.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, the last of the intense pain fading.

"N-No – Mr. Okumura saved me." Before Amaimon's anger had a chance to return, Amon buried his face in the nook of his neck in a tight hug. This sudden contact, slight though it was, made him tense, made him instantly regret everything. "Dad, can we talk? I...I think I understand now." His words were muffled, but the earth king didn't hear him regardless.

That dreaded feeling returned, slammed into him with a force that made his head spin. It was the urge to return his hug, to comfort his child, hold him and never let go. He knew it was dangerous to feel this way, but these unwanted emotions ate at him like a disease, a cancer, threatening to consume him. And yet, inside, deep down, his primal instinct as a father jerked bitterly at him.

He couldn't help but feel shame for what he'd become, for being unable to control his feelings.

Snapping back to his senses, Amaimon squirmed out of Amon's grasp and grabbed his arms, holding him back, preventing him from coming any closer lest this simple gesture destroy his reputation as a demon. "Stop it." No matter how badly he wanted to, he _couldn't_ embrace Amon; at least, not here – not with so many eyes on them. "You can't touch me," he spoke in a whisper.

"B-But... But, dad, I-"

Amaimon weakly pushed him away and braced himself against a nearby tree. The hurt that reflected in Amon's face was more than he could handle, so he turned away. But the boy was a fool; he came back, sniffling loudly, trying to keep his tears from falling. _Don't, Amon... You can't..._

"D-Dad, listen, please!"

"Don't touch me!" he snapped, shoving him back. Amon tripped over himself and fell. He sat up slowly, cradling his injured head. "How many times do I have to tell you _not_ to touch me?" His voice betrayed him, trembling as he spoke.

"I forgot..."

"You _always_ forget."

"I... I'm sorry."

The fall had reopened the wound on his forehead, and the sight of fresh blood trickling down Amon's cheeks instantly quelled his irritation and sickened him. Amaimon pushed away from the tree, his strength returning to him, and approached him cautiously. "Amon, you're bleeding." Startled, the boy tenderly touched his head, wincing when his mud-covered fingers came into contact with the deep gash. His fingertips were stained with thick, dark droplets.

Before he could reach Amon, Yukio stepped in front of him, weapon raised. "That's enough, Amaimon. You're _done_ hurting my students."

_No, it was an accident!_

"M-Mr. Okumura, please – just a little longer!" Amon pleaded, crawling over to him on his hands and knees.

"You had your chance, Amon." Amaimon tensed as Yukio forced him back. "He doesn't care about what you have to say. He doesn't even care that you're injured."

_He's my son! Of course I care!_ Amaimon's anger came quickly, boiling up into the back of his throat until it burst from him in a roar. The sudden sound caused Yukio to flinch, and, in that moment of hesitation, the demon lunged forward in an attack.

Rin, his body a living, blue flame, stopped his assault, catching him in the shoulder with the blunt side of his sword and shoving him back. It didn't hurt, but it was enough to distract him.

Frustration and fury burned at Amaimon, a toxic combination. With each breath he grew angrier, and his control was fraying at the edges. Growling, he straightened, clenching his fists to keep himself from lashing out long enough to scold Rin. "Amon is _my_ son! You have _no_ right to protect him!" There was enough uncontrolled rage in his tone to startle both Okumura twins.

"I wouldn't have to protect him if _you_ weren't trying to kill him!" he snapped, glaring intensely.

_I never wanted to kill him. I just... Demons don't love..._

He continued shouting, but Amaimon didn't hear his response – not that anything he had to say mattered to him, he was too absorbed in his rage to think straight.

Disregarding the consequences of his actions and giving in completely to his impulsive anger, Amaimon dug his toes into the dirt and launched himself toward Rin, teeth bared in a snarl. His brother boldly met him head-on and the hilt of his sword caught him in the chin, sending him crashing into the ground. He ignored the dull pain from the impact and threw himself up as soon as he landed, launching back into the air and twisting around for another attack.

He grabbed the sword as his brother raised it to block him and grunted as he tried to pry the blade from his grasp. But Rin wouldn't let go, so, instead, he punched the half-demon in the face, two quick hits. He staggered back slightly, giving Amaimon the opportunity to get behind him. Carefully avoiding the flaming tuft, he grabbed his tail and _pulled_. He screamed in pain, but it was cut off as the demon threw him by his tail into a nearby tree. Rin's head cracked back against the trunk, the pain sending a flash of white across his vision. He landed awkwardly on his feet and stumbled to his knees, dazed.

Before he had a chance to recover, Amaimon kicked him, knocking him off-balance and sending him tumbling into the dew-covered grass. Rin dropped his sword as he stumbled. The weapon skidded perfectly – just outside of his reach. He tackled his dazed brother, straddling his waist to hold him down, and began to beat him. A gunshot sounded, but the bullet only grazed his arm, so he ignored it.

Amaimon focused all of his rage, his guilt, his shame into his punches, as if beating his younger brother hard enough would change things. Hurting Rin didn't make anything better – if anything it made him feel worse – but he couldn't stop himself now.

"Nii-san!" Yukio shoved him off his brother violently. When he got back to his feet, he pressed the barrel of his gun to his forehead. He hesitated, trembling with anger. In that instant, Amaimon batted his arm away with enough force to knock the weapon out of his hand and almost break the bone.

Amaimon wanted to kill him, but someone grabbed his arm as he raised it, stopping him. Lost in his rage, he spun, punching Amon in his injured face. The savage blow knocked him to the ground and split his lip.

"A-Amon!" Rin cried out to him, voice filled with a protectiveness he had no right to feel. Yukio, abandoning his discarded gun and ignoring the pain in his arm, knelt to help the boy.

Blinking to clear the tears from his eyes, Amon sat up, cradling his face. "Da-Dad... Please, stop."

"Why did you...?" His voice trailed off and he stared at his son with wide eyes, his rage completely obliterated.

By then, Rin was back on his feet and had retrieved his sword. He spat out a mouthful of blood. "That's _enough_, Amaimon," he said, a warning. "Is this how you want Amon to see you?"

"Shut up!" he snapped. "Don't you _dare_ tell me how to treat my son!"

He snorted, a disgusted sound. "You do realize I'm trying to protect _him_ from _you_, right!?"

"_STOP IT_!" Amon shouted with an uncharacteristic ferocity, finally drawing Amaimon's attention. "I can't take it anymore!" he croaked, pressing his clenched fists to his temples. "Stop protecting me! Stop telling me what to do! Just let me live my life!"

"A-Amon, I... I don't..." Amaimon blustered, unable to manage any coherent words. _It was an accident._

He drew in a slow, shaky breath and sighed heavily. "I'm so sick of all this," Amon looked numb and afraid, but sounded calm and confident nonetheless. "Dad," he raised his eyes and met his father's stunned and bemused gaze. "You can't keep doing this to yourself – You need to let me go."

"Wh-What?" He stepped back, desperately trying to quell the tremors that attacked his body. Amaimon didn't want to be seen like this in front of his son, trembling and uncertain, and the frailty in his voice, in his actions, made him grimace.

"Stop protecting me from everyone. It's... It's not your fault I turned out like this." _Pathetic and weak and worthless._ The thought hung unfinished in the air, but Amaimon knew exactly what he meant to say. "I know you don't want me to end up a laughing stock like you, and I know you blame yourself for my...lack of skill, but it's _not_ your fault. There's nothing you can do now. You _have_ to stop living your life through me. Let me live _my_ life. Let me make mistakes. Let me get into trouble. Let me be weak. It's who I am. It's who I _want_ to be. Please, dad – You need to _let me go_...before it destroys you."

Amaimon didn't know what to do. He tried to think of something to say – an excuse for his actions, maybe, but, suddenly, his entire mind seemed painfully hollow. He _hated_ this. He wished he could stop feeling, stop loving, stop caring, just like Aniue. Why _did_ he care for some weak child? Why _did_ he bother anymore? Why didn't he run when he first made the decision?

"I _love you_ dad," Amon said softly. "If you love me, you'll give me this." His brown eyes were wide, begging, pleading, and a dark bruise had already formed on his cheek. He never once averted his piteous gaze, and, knowing _he_ caused Amon to look that way, hurt him more than anything.

"I-I _can't_..."

"Then go," Yukio spat, a hand on Amon's shoulder. His words stuck the earth demon hard. He looked down in shame, gritting his teeth, trying to force back everything he was feeling.

It didn't work.

"I _know_ you won't leave me, dad. You don't want to, right?" Amon smiled as his father met his eyes one last time. Dread and guilt and shame washed through him, and, frantic, Amaimon turned and ran, disappearing quickly into the trees. He didn't think, he just moved, putting as much distance between him and his son as he could.

* * *

Amon sat quietly in the passenger seat, arms wrapped around himself, body hunched forward, face pale and blood stained. He stared out the window at the passing street lights with a level expression, mouth turned down at the corners. Though he did his best to appear impassive, on the inside, he was struggling to convince himself that what he had done, and what he had said, was necessary. He tried to convince himself that dad would be back before morning, that he hadn't run away, that he loved Amon as much as he hoped he did, but he couldn't rid his mind of the uncertainty and dread he felt.

The car slowed to a stop at a red light and Amon felt Rin-sensei's eyes on him. He forced himself to straighten his posture and lower his arms, though he didn't turn away from the window.

"It's alright, Amon – You don't have to pretend to be strong."

"I..." he hesitated and started to sigh, but caught himself. No. No more sulking. It would only make things worse. "I'm _not_ pretending." His voice was firm when he spoke again.

Rin-sensei said nothing, turning his attention back to the road, leaving Amon to his thoughts.

"This is _all_ my fault..." The other exwires were too afraid to approach him while he was packing his things up, regarding him with glares and whispers from a distance. Because of his cowardice and weakness, everyone hated him, feared him, avoided him, even Jun and Jinx. He was back where he started – a failure with no friends.

"Don't think like that." He hadn't realized he said it out loud until Rin-sensei responded.

"It is!" he retorted, choking back a sob. "If I had the courage to talk to dad sooner, none of this would have happened!"

Rin-sensei turned to meet his eyes as the car came to a stop. Amon's expression was haunted, half of his face lit on one side by a lone street light. "Stop it," he scolded. "This was _never_ your fault. If you weren't there, Amaimon might have..." his voice trailed off and he continued driving in solemn silence.

A tense, uncomfortable quiet fell over them until Rin-sensei pulled into the driveway of Amon's house. Asterius-niisan, expecting him home after a distraught phone call, had left the porch light on. He turned the car off and sighed, making no attempt to get out.

"Mr. Okumura?" Amon's voice was dour and low. "Have you...ever felt like you were useless? Like everything you tried to do was pointless?"

He laughed without humor. "All the time."

That surprised him. "R-Really?" He nodded. "That sounds kinda strange coming from someone as accomplished as you."

"You think?" He paused, staring mindlessly into the distance. "You did well tonight, Amon."

"Huh?" He looked up, brow scrunched in consternation.

"I was around your age when I lost my father... I was too afraid to do anything to save him back then. But you... You were brave enough to try and knock some sense into him. You didn't hesitate." He shook his head with a small chuckle, his voice withdrawn. "I don't think I could do that. Amaimon is pretty scary when he's angry."

Amon couldn't help a light laugh. "If you think _that's_ bad, you should see Asterius-niisan when he's mad." He smiled and lowered his gaze shyly to his hands that rested in his lap. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Uncle Rin."

"U-Uncle Rin?" Rin-sensei blushed deeply and massaged the back of his neck. "W-Why are you thanking me? I didn't do anything."

"If it weren't for your guidance, I don't think I would have had the confidence to say what I did to dad. So...thank you – I truly appreciate it." He ruffled the boy's hair, making his spike bristle. Amon smoothed it back with an annoyed huff. "Just because you're my uncle doesn't mean you have permission to do that!"

Rin-sensei's face was serene and soft and almost affectionate. "He'll come back for you, Amon."

His smile brightened. "I know."

The teacher watched as Amon slowly got out of the car, steadying himself against the open door as the movement made his injured head spin. "I'll see you when summer break is over."

"You'll make a great dad one day, Mr. Okumura." His eyes widened and his mouth opened with surprise, but Amon ignored his sudden change of expression. "Good night. And thanks for the ride." He shut the door and stepped back, waving as Rin-sensei drove off. Amon remained in the driveway long after the car had disappeared around the corner. He barely noticed that it had started to rain, his eyes fixated on the distant treeline. He waited, without knowing what it was he waited for, until the door opened behind him and Asterius-niisan gently called his name.

Before Amon even walked through the door, he spilled everything to the minotaur, rambling and fighting back tears. Asterius-niisan said nothing as he spoke, content with quietly listening on the dimly lit porch. When he was done – and when he had finally calmed down and caught his breath – he led Amon inside and removed his dirtied uniform jacket. He gestured to the kitchen table where a collection of medical supplies had been carefully laid out. Amon sat down in the chair and the minotaur began to clean the mud and dust from his wound.

"Your friends _will_ forgive you eventually, Amon. Just give them time and try not to rush them into any decision." He winced as Asterius-niisan dabbed the gauze against his forehead. "This was just as traumatizing for them as it was for you – so give them time to get their feelings together."

"And dad? He'll...come back, right?" He sniffled loudly, his trembling voice betraying him. "D-Dad won't abandon me, right?"

"Your father loves you," he said mildly. Asterius-niisan opened his mouth to say more, then stopped himself and sighed, as if he doubted what he had just said. Amon flinched – if Asterius-niisan didn't believe dad would be back then... The minotaur tended to the boy's split lip and then wiped his entire face with a cool towel.

"B-But what if he doesn't come back?" He shut his eyes tightly. Amon didn't want to cry anymore, but the tears still came. "I-I... I d-don't want to be an orphan!" Tears spilled out from his squeezed eyes, and he quickly wiped them away with the back of his hand.

Asterius-niisan said nothing as he wrapped his head with a clean bandage. He couldn't tell Amon that his father would be back for certain – Amaimon was unpredictable, and there was a good chance Mephisto would convince him never to see the two again.

But Amon didn't need to hear that.

The minotaur finished wrapping his wound and stood to wash his hands. "That's all I can do for now. If it doesn't close by morning, you'll need stitches." He eased Amon slowly to his feet, using a hand to steady him. "Go lay down on the couch for now – I'll bring you a blanket."

Amon complied, sniffing loudly and rubbing at his eyes. "Can you bring my bear too?" Asterius-niisan made a disapproving face at his request, but nodded nonetheless.

The bear sat on an empty shelf above a desk and beside a small picture of Amaimon and Amon in kimonos during their first – and only – New Year's festival together in Kyoto. It was dusty from disuse, and the very sight of it made Asterius's blood boil with fury. This shelf was specifically chosen to hold all the presents Amon had received from his father over the years, and yet it only held two things.

Letting his anger go in a short sigh, the minotaur scooped up Amon's blanket and carefully picked up the bear, brushing the dust off its furry head.

Amon stared at the white ceiling, faintly lit from the hallway light. He mused quietly to himself, plumbing his mind for what he might do or say to dad when he came home or, deeper still, for what he would do if he never saw dad again. The sound of Asterius-niisan's footsteps ripped him from his thoughts before he came to a decision that satisfied him.

"Thanks." He raised his head slightly as Asterius-niisan gently placed the blanket over him and handed him the toy.

He pressed the teddy bear to his face and sucked in a long, shuddering breath. It smelled just like how he remembered – a little like dad. It reminded him of days spent with Amaimon in the garden, of evenings helping him cook, of late mornings when he had to rouse the earth demon from his sleep for breakfast. The memories caused him to sob, and he could no longer hold back his tears.

After a short while of silent crying, exhaustion overcame him, and Amon slipped into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Amaimon lingered outside his house, staring absently at the front door, bathed in a dim, yellow light. Asterius only left the porch light on after dark if he was expecting someone. The demon felt an unfamiliar sensation of elation knowing that they were waiting for him, that Amon _wasn't_ happy to have his father out of his life, as Aniue had said.

Without thinking, Amaimon walked up to the door and opened it, unsurprised to find it was unlocked. Asterius glanced up from his spot in the hallway, a college textbook in his lap. "Welcome home."

The words twisted at his heart. "Where's Amon?"

"He's asleep." Asterius nodded to the living room.

Amaimon hesitated in the hallway, peeking in at the sleeping figure on the couch. "I shouldn't be here. I need to go," he told himself, trying to tear his gaze away from Amon.

Asterius stood beside him. "Where are you going?"

Amaimon chewed anxiously on the inside of his cheek, unable to quell the disgusting human emotions welling within him. "...Away. Amon doesn't need me anymore."

The minotaur firmly grabbed his arm as he turned to leave. "You're right – Amon can survive just fine without you, but he still needs you. He doesn't need you to tell him how to live, he needs you to _be there for him_. Part of being a father is the satisfaction of watching your child grow up and make mistakes, to stumble through life and make something out of himself."

"I'm a terrible father." He said it under his breath, but the minotaur still heard him.

"Yes, you are." Amaimon gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to hit him. "But it's never too late to change. You can be a good father if you try." Asterius released him. "Wake him up – he'll be excited to see you." He quickly left the hallway, not waiting for a response from the demon.

Amaimon turned back to Amon. He had fooled himself into believing he didn't love him to gain Aniue's trust and approval. But now, as he watched his son sleeping peacefully with his tear stained face buried in his teddy bear, he became aware of how wrong he was, of how much he cared about Amon.

He sat down on the edge of the couch and gently shook Amon's shoulder. The boy eased his eyes opened and scrambled upright, startled by Amaimon's presence. "D-Dad!?"

"Good morning." Amaimon had never seen his son like this – his hair a mess of black and green, his face tight with worry and fear, his lip trembling and bleeding again; all of this made his large, puffy, brown eyes seem all the more huge.

And then, for the first time in his life, the earth king pulled Amon into him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and holding him in a tight hug. His scent was faint and familiar, and his small body felt warm and fragile. Amon immediately responded, burying his face in the nook of his father's neck and trembling violently. He pressed himself to Amaimon, as if afraid he wasn't real, afraid he would let go and this would all turn out to be a dream.

He heard Amon sniff and whimper quietly. "Why are you crying?"

"B-Becuase...dad's here!" He pawed at his face helplessly, trying to wipe away his tears. "Da-Daddy!"

Amaimon smiled, but Amon couldn't see it. "...Idiot. I would never leave you."


	9. Chapter 9

_Moonlight filtered through the clouds, through gaps in the canopy of trees, casting dark, misshapen shadows on the undergrowth around him. He was standing alone on the outskirts of a dense forest, an endless chasm at his back. A chilly, evening wind rustled the leaves, pushing loose strands of black hair into his eyes. Overcome with a sense of confusion, he brushed his fringe out of his face and started toward the trees, hoping to find his way back home. He paused when a sudden movement in the forest caught his attention. Something was there, waiting for him, but he knew it wouldn't hurt him._

_Amon took a step to the side, inclining his head to get a better view of the figure in the shadows. A stab of fear lanced through him as he continued to watch, expecting, for some reason unknown to him, to see a horrible monster made of black smoke._

_Behemoth hopped out of the darkness first, purring and bouncing, excited to see his prince. The hobgoblin was quickly followed by Amaimon. He cradled a large bag of lollipops in one arm, and dug through it to find his son's favorite flavor – watermelon. Amon smiled as he accepted it._

"_Thanks, dad!" He tore the wrapper off and popped it into his mouth, the flavor tantalizing and familiar._

_Amaimon patted him on his head. "Everything is okay now, Amon," he said, his voice distant, echoing throughout the empty clearing. "I'll always be here for you, but I won't push you anymore." Amon didn't fully understand the meaning of his words and merely shrugged a shoulder. "Don't be afraid of me." Dad held his hand out, palm up, beckoning Amon to take it._

_He hesitated, eyes cemented to Amaimon's with uncertainty. His expression seemed level, but was softened with affection, a compassion that Amon so desperately wanted to see in his father's eyes. "You won't leave me...right, dad?"_

_His lips twitched at the corners, as if he were fighting a smile. "Don't be ridiculous." Amon, filled with a warm, peaceful happiness, took his hand. "Let's go home." It was then that he noticed Asterius-niisan waiting patiently behind Amaimon with Behemoth._

"_Home... Together as a family, right?"_

"_Together as a family."_

**Chapter Nine  
****Family**

Amon woke to the gentle, pleasant sound of clinking dishes, the sunlight pouring in from the open window hot on the side of his head. For a few peaceful, relaxing moments, he lay there, his face snuggled lazily against the soft, brown teddy bear. He sat up with a sigh, stretching his arms above his head and his legs out.

Dad placed the last of the dishes into the dishwasher and looked up when Amon entered the kitchen. "Did you have a good nap?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. "Since when did you do chores? I thought me and Asterius-niisan were supposed to keep the house clean." Amon sat at the table and yawned.

Amaimon turned to the empty sink with a frown. "Asterius convinced me to...help out a little more." He sat across from his son and tapped his black claws against the table impatiently. "So, uh," he started reluctantly. "I talked to Uncle Rin again..."

He perked up. "You didn't argue with him this time, did you?"

"No – I didn't!" Amon raised a brow at dad, obviously not convinced. He huffed and crossed his arms like a child. "Maybe just a little at first."

Amon sighed, shaking his head slowly. "Dad, _please_ try to stop being mean to him – he's part of our family. Okay?"

The earth king scowled and mumbled something obscene under his breath. "Fine. Okay. I'll try harder to control myself from now on."

"Promise?"

He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Promise."

"Great!" He smiled with approval. "Sooo...what did you talk about?"

Dad's expression softened. "We were thinking that...maybe," he paused, trying to decide how to word his thoughts. "Maybe... Your Uncle Mephisto would like to see you in a few plays. And Asterius says that running track will help improve the condition of your lungs. So... I asked Rin to remove you from cram school."

Amon nearly fell out of his chair. "Y-You mean... I don't have to take exorcist classes anymore!?"

"You're not doing as well as I hoped, so, uh," he hesitated and then attempted to harden his voice. "I'm forcing you to quit cram school because you suck at it!"

His entire face brightened and his eyes glittered with excitement. "You really mean it!?"

Amaimon couldn't help a small smile. "Yes."

"Thank you, dad!" He stood up to embrace him, but then stopped, remembering that Amaimon didn't like to be touched. "Oh, sorry." With a frown, he turned back to his chair, the disappointment churning his features, making him seem more boyish than normal.

"It's okay." The demon held out his arms. "Come here." Amon hesitantly stepped forward. Something in Amaimon's expression softened as he wrapped his arms around his neck and held on tight, as if he finally meant something to dad.

"Thanks..."

"You're welcome, Amon."

* * *

Amon breathed out slowly, releasing his frustration, trying to focus, and raised the bat beside his head. He narrowed his eyes in concentration at Yata. The black-haired exorcist pulled his arm back, lifted his leg, and threw the baseball with such a force that Amon barely saw it fly by him. He swung the bat hard, but it only cut through air.

"Strike three!" Asterius-niisan called.

He groaned loudly and let the metal bat slip from his hands. "Senpai, you throw too hard!" Amon sighed again, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

Yata laughed heartily, rotating his throwing arm with a smug grin. "Nah, you just don't react fast enough!"

Amon stuck his tongue out. "It was a good try, Amon." Asterius-niisan – their catcher for the game – stood behind him, tossing the baseball into the air and catching it with ease. "Don't give up – Keep practicing and I know you'll hit it next time."

"Yeah, right," he said, sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "I'll always suck at baseball."

"No you won't," Hamada chimed in, her voice gentle and light. Today, her auburn hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, small curls flowing down past her shoulders. Amon's face instantly flared a bright red. "Don't give up, Amon!" She smiled and he averted his gaze, shuffling his feet shyly.

"Ye-Yeah! T-Thanks, Hamada."

Asterius-niisan huffed with mock irritation. "When _she_ says it, you believe it!" He stifled a laugh when Amon's blush turned an even darker red. "Go take a break." He gave the boy a playful push.

Amon shoved him back with a smile and sat on the bench beside Jun. "We're going to lose because of me." He frowned and rested his chin in his hand.

Jun patted his shoulder. "It's okay – We're not playing to win."

"I know...but I want to impress Hamada."

He chuckled, causing Amon to blush again. "Hitting a baseball won't make her fall in love with you."

"T-That's not what I meant!" Jun burst into laughter and, though he resisted at first, Amon joined him, laughing more at the relief of having his precious friends back. "Thanks for being a great friend, Jun."

That took him by surprise, but he smiled nonetheless. "You're a great friend too, Amon."

"Y-You think?"

"Most of the time." The boys shared another laugh.

"You're so mean!"

A metallic sound grabbed their attention, and the two turned with astonishment to see Hamada hit the baseball with a fierce swing. It arched high above the opposing team, over the treeline, and out of the boundaries of the park. She dropped the bat and casually jogged around the bases.

"Wow!" Amon shielded his eyes from the sun, but the baseball was completely gone. "Where did you learn to hit like that, Hamada?" he asked when she returned to home base.

She shrugged. "I have two older brothers. It was either learn how to swing a bat or get pinned down and have a spider shoved in my face."

"T-That's terrible!"

She shook her head. "Not really. I love spiders – I even have a pet tarantula." She giggled sweetly at his stunned reaction, and the sound made Amon's heart flutter.

"Y-You must be really strong," he mumbled, lowering his eyes to his feet and kicking at the dirt again.

"Not as strong as you, Amon." He looked up at her, breath caught in his throat, admiring her beauty: the loose strands of hair that framed her face delicately, her gentle smile, and her bright eyes. His cheeks burned and his heart sped into a wild beat of excitement.

"Uh...s-so..." he paused and cleared his throat with apparent difficulty, a futile attempt to rid his voice of its embarrassing stutter. She waited patiently for him to collect himself. "I-I was...w-wondering, uh..." Before he could force out his question, Jinx ran up to them, her brow dotted with sweat and her breathing ragged.

"Mitsuru knocked the baseball into oblivion – we can't find it," she gasped, hands on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath.

Yata approached them next, his tattoos peeking out from under his sleeve. "You have one hell of an arm, Hamada-chan."

She blushed and covered her mouth with a hand innocently. "I'm so sorry, senpai!" She bowed briefly, startling him. "I'll buy you a replacement."

He waved a hand, dismissing her apology. "Don't worry about it – I have hundreds of them back home. Anyway, we can't continue the game without a ball, so we'll have to schedule a rematch. How does same time next week sound?"

Amon nodded. "That sounds good to me!"

"Make sure you learn to hit the ball by then," Jinx playfully prodded his arm with a finger. "I don't want to feel bad for kicking your butt!" She gave him a challenging grin.

He returned it with a smirk just as confident. "I'll be able to hit it! Make sure _you_ can catch it!"

"We'll see who wins next week!" She stuck her tongue out at him as she walked away with Yata.

Amon's face fell to an exaggerated frown as soon as she was gone. "I'm going to have to practice _a lot_."

Hamada giggled. "You'll be fine. So, uh, what were you going to ask me?"

His blush and stutter instantly returned. "O-Oh, uh..." He hesitated, massaging the back of his neck anxiously. "I-I was wondering i-if you wanted to...g-go see a movie with m-me, uh, Saturday?"

"Saturday? Hmm," she hummed in thought, her chin resting on her closed fist. "What movie did you want to see?"

Amon swallowed hard before answering. "I-I was t-thinking we could go see the new _Sleeping Beauty..._" He picked a romantic movie, hoping Hamada would understand what he was implying without him asking her directly.

"_Sleeping Beauty_?" Her smile broadened, brightening her features with excitement. "I've wanted to see that since it came out!"

"G-Great!" He relaxed slightly. "How does, uh, around seven sound?"

"Sure. But...is it just going to be us?"

He paused, chewing on his bottom lip, his blush darkening. "Y-Yeah..."

"Good," she said softly, leaning toward him. "I want to spend more time alone with you," her voice trailed off and a light pink shade dusted her cheeks. "I really like you, Amon."

"I-I really l-like you too," he said, meeting her eyes tentatively.

"Your stuttering is adorable," she giggled, and Amon, suddenly feeling the intensity of her eyes on him, looked away nervously. He fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt, trying hard not to look like he enjoyed being called 'adorable'. "Y'know, Amon... I'd like you even more if you called me by my first name."

"O-Okay... M-Mitsuru." She smiled, stepped forward, and kissed him on the lips.

Amon was startled at first, but quickly melted into her. Her touch was as soft and silky as he imagined it, causing his heart to pound and ache. Amon closed his eyes and gently placed his arms on her waist, bringing her closer to him. She held nothing back and leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Hey!" Amon immediately pulled away from Mitsuru as a baseball glove hit the back of his head. He turned to find Asterius-niisan sneering at him. "No kissing on the field!" His friends were crowded behind the minotaur, snickering to each other.

The couple blushed, embarrassed that they had been caught. "S-So, seven right?"

"Y-Yeah, s-seven."

* * *

The coach brought the brightly colored flag down, signaling the start of the race. Amon dug his toes into the ground and broke into a sprint. His face was knit with concentration, but Amaimon recognized the twist of pain that came whenever he exerted himself physically. The earth king sat on the edge of his seat, ignoring the shouts of excitement around him, eyes focused on his son, desperately hoping he wouldn't embarrass himself by collapsing in the middle of his first cross country race.

Amon was the first to react, putting him before the other nine runners. But, the strain he was exerting on his lungs was finally catching up to him, slowing him down. Even from where he sat, Amaimon could see his breathing grow rapid and his face become pale.

But he crossed the finish line without so much as tripping, coming in fourth.

Rin jumped to his feet beside him, cheering Amon's name loudly. Amaimon let out the breath he was holding and sat back, finally able to relax. His little brother sat back down, face brightened with exhilaration. They both waved to Amon when he glanced up.

"I almost thought he wasn't going to make it on that last curve," he said, voice filled with relief. "How long has it been since he started track?"

"A month." Amaimon watched the other racers with a bored expression.

"Only a month? Amon's improving faster than I can keep up." Anger lanced through him at the sound of Rin's prideful voice, but he gritted his teeth and tried to clear his mind.

"I'm proud of him too," he said finally.

"He'll be happy to hear that from you." Rin smiled.

"And from you, too," Amaimon said it without thinking, but, for once, didn't regret it.

The young teacher blushed and let out an awkward chuckle. "But... I'm not as important to him as _you_ are."

He scoffed. "I know you're not." His words instantly wiped the smile from Rin's face. "...Amon looks up to you. You were there for him when I wasn't – He'll want _you_ to be proud of him too."

"Wha...? W-Where did _that_ come from?"

Amaimon ignored him, and met his bemused gaze with an almost reverent expression. "You'll make a great father one day. Until then," he paused to sigh, an attempt to rid his voice of the irritation that threatened to make him go back on his promise not to argue with his brother. "Until then... I guess... I want you to be there for Amon – It's what he would want."

"You mean...as a godfather?"

He bit his bottom lip and suppressed the urge to snap at him. "Yeah, whatever."

Rin's smile returned, soft and sincere. "Thanks, Amaimon. That... That really means a lot to me-"

"But if he starts to like _you_ more than _me_, I'll kill you."

Rin sighed and his face blanked. "I hope Amon doesn't turn out to be as unpredictable as you."

The earth king shot him a smug grin. "Like father, like son." His brother snorted and laughed, shaking his head.

**. . .**

Amon quickly found Amaimon in the dispersing crowd when the races were over. "Dad! Uncle Rin!" He jogged up to them, slightly out of breath from his excitement. "Did you see me? I did it!" he exclaimed eagerly, a huge smile stretching his face. "I crossed the finish line!"

"You were great out there, Amon!" Uncle Rin ruffled his hair, and, though he didn't appreciate the gesture, he was too happy to complain.

"Good job, Amon – I'm proud of you."

Amon heard the pride in dad's voice, saw it reflected in his eyes, and his heart soared. "D-Dad..." He sniffled, forcing back tears. Uncle Rin turned to see what had caused Amon to become so emotional, and did a double take. Amaimon was _smiling_ – _actually smiling_.

His smile vanished and he looked between the two with an annoyed expression. "What?"

"You were smiling," Uncle Rin said with a small laugh.

"I was not!" Amaimon blushed and turned away, a hand over his mouth.

Amon felt his features soften as he watched his uncle tease dad. This was his first _true_ taste of freedom, the first sign that his world had changed forever. He had already decided that he would no longer let _anything_ hold him back – not his lungs or dad's irrational disdain for humans. Amon was done allowing his fear and anxiety to hold him captive, to make him cry.

The future was now _his_ to embrace, to claim for himself, and Amon was going to hold on as tightly as he could.

* * *

Amaimon stepped out onto the back porch cradling a cup of tea and a small jewelry box. He sat on one of the chairs just under the yellow light and waved Amon over. He paused before he sat, turning back to admire his garden. "So, dad, what do you think?" he asked, accepting the cup of tea and making himself comfortable in the chair beside him.

"It's beautiful." And it was.

Like his father, Amon had a natural talent for plants of all varieties – they blossomed eagerly in his presence, becoming an exotic, alluring pallet of colors, especially in the spring. It wasn't as exquisite as Amahara back home in Gehenna, but it would get there one day, and Amaimon would definitely be here to see it.

A calm silence fell between them as they both gazed out at the starless night, the singing of crickets and Amon slowly sipping his tea the only sounds this late at night.

"Amon... Let's talk."

He tilted his head, placing his empty cup down on the armrest. "About what?"

"I...want to tell you the truth about what you are," he spoke calmly and sensitively, as if afraid his words would somehow bruise him.

"The truth...?" Amon's face scrunched with confusion. "What do you mean?"

He sighed, preparing himself. "Nymeria – your mother – did not die giving birth to you."

Amon narrowed his eyes incredulously and searched Amaimon's face, struggling to understand why he would hide something so trivial from him. "W-What? I... I-I don't..." his voice trailed off and he fell silent.

"She was executed," he said, his gaze anywhere but on Amon, his tone easy and gentle.

His head snapped up, startled. "E-Executed!? Why?"

Amaimon stared up at the black sky and tried not to let anything in his countenance reveal the treacherous emotions that came with the memory of her leaving him, her black hair rustled gently by the wind. "Nymphs are not allowed to breed outside of their tribe. When the elders discovered you were born, they hunted her down and killed her. They would have done the same to you, but by then I had you safe in the garden palace. The tribe was afraid of me, so they left us alone."

He suddenly became quiet, carefully watching Amon's face, trying to decide how to continue from here. His son's expression quickly grew sullen, and he stared mindlessly at his empty tea cup, deep in thought, chin trembling as he fought back his tears. Finally, he spoke, his voice steadier than Amaimon expected. "But _why_? What's so bad about being part nymph?"

"Obsidian blood." Amon's eyes widened as realization slammed into him. "Anything mixed with a nymph – demon or human – is born with dark purple blood." Amaimon met his son's terrified and bemused eyes. "Most children don't survive into their teenage years because the obsidian solidifies in their veins. But, because your blood is mixed with a demon king, your body is strong enough to combat this. You are the oldest living half-nymph in recorded history."

"D-Dad, I-I don't... I don't understand..."

He continued with his explanation, ignoring the interruption. "Obsidian blood is one of the rarest abilities a demon can be born with, right behind Satan's blue flames. Pure obsidian is extremely dangerous to demons – it invokes a reaction similar to holy water in us, though no one knows why. Oh, exorcists don't know this," he added quickly. "We've gone out of our way to keep this information hidden from them, so don't let this slip to Rin.

"But," he started again after a brief pause, all the tension gone from his voice, "if you're not strong enough, your blood will kill you. This... This was why I pushed you so hard; because I didn't want to lose you."

Amon tried to smile at him, but it vanished a second later. "You won't lose me, dad."

"Then promise you'll continue practicing with the abilities you have. At least a few times a week."

He shook his head and dread rolled through him. "Dad, you promised you wouldn't talk about demons anymore, remember? I'm done training – I want to be a biomedical engineer, not a demon king."

"Amon," he spoke through gritted teeth, frustrated that his son didn't realize how much potential he had. "You are a _very_ powerful demon. If you could just learn how to control your powers, you could-"

"Stop!" he cried, shaking his head and covering his ears with his hands. "I told you, I'm done! I'm done with demons! I'm done with exorcists! I'm done with all of it! I don't want to hear about it anymore!"

Amaimon let out a heavy sigh. A promise was a promise. "Here." He took Amon's wrist and placed the jewelry box in his open hand.

He frowned at it. "What's this?" His fingertips slowly traced the branch-like design on its top. When he didn't answer, Amon glanced up, flashing him a look of confusion.

"Open it."

Inside, resting on soft, purple silk, was a jagged, misshapen chunk of obsidian no larger than his fist. Amon picked it up carefully and turned it in his hands, captivated by how the yellow porch light reflected in the darkly colored glass. "Pretty..." he mused, holding it up. "It feels like it's pulsing..."

"It's your demon heart."

"What!?" Amon tore his gaze away from the obsidian, visibly tensing, suddenly fearful of the..._thing_ in his hands. He quickly placed it back into the box and wiped his hands on his torn jeans. "It's my... _What_?"

Amaimon stared at it, glittering faintly in the dim light. "When you were eight, I had Uncle Mephisto seal your demon heart to save your life."

"Because of my lungs..." he uttered the words under his breath, seeming to understand everything at once. "It wasn't miasma...was it?"

"No – The blood in your lungs was hardening, and your body was attacking it," his tone was withdrawn, distant. "If Mephisto hadn't sealed your powers, you would have died. Destroy this," he nodded at the obsidian, "and you'll become almost as powerful as your Uncle Rin. But Amon," he grabbed the boy's chin and forced them to make eye contact. "Do _not_ break it unless you're ready. Releasing the seal too soon _will_ kill you."

Amon squirmed out of his grasp. "Why are you giving this to me? Why wait until _now_ to tell me all this?"

Amaimon lowered his eyes to the jewelry box again, biting his bottom lip hard to force back his pathetic emotions. "I'm... This is me letting you go," he sucked in a slow, shaky breath. "I'm letting you make your own decisions about your future. Just...promise me you'll keep it somewhere safe."

Amon's smile returned, soft and wistful, and his entire body relaxed. He gently closed the lid of the jewelry box, patted it affectionately, and then handed it back to Amaimon. "Thanks, dad. This is the best thing you could do for me right now."

"Why are you giving it to me? It's _your_ heart." He peered at him with astonishment. Wasn't he doing what Amon had asked? Giving him complete control over his life? And yet, after everything they've been through in the past month...did Amon _still_ trust him? Despite all the pain he forced him through? Amaimon's hands began to tremble as he continued to battle his rising emotions.

Amon laughed, his smile widening. "You said to keep it somewhere safe. There's no safer place in Assiah than with you, dad. Besides," he paused, turning his attention to the empty sky. "I don't think I'll ever be ready."

"Don't be ridiculous, Amon. You're not as weak as you think you are...or, as weak as _I_ say you are."

"Y-You really mean that?" He beamed, his face lit with delight.

"Of course." Amaimon forced a smile. It was small and uncertain, but it was there nonetheless.

"Really!?"

"Yes."

"Really _really_?"

He deadpanned. "Don't push your luck."

Amon tossed his head back and laughed loudly. Tears escaped from the corners of his eyes, dripping off his chin before he could wipe them away, but, this time, Amaimon knew they were from joy, not sadness. It was such a wonderful feeling to see his son happy, and to know that, finally, _he_ was the one to make him feel this way.

All along, Asterius had been right: watching your child grow and make something out of himself was the most satisfying thing a father could experience.

* * *

Amaimon knocked gently on Amon's door before opening it and poking his head in. The boy was fast asleep despite it being early in the evening, blanket pulled up to his chin. He slipped in quietly and placed his present – poorly wrapped with light blue paper – on the empty shelf beside the framed photo. It was a book – a collection of horror stories by someone named _Lovecraft_. Asterius said it would help 'improve his taste in books', whatever that meant.

As he turned to leave, Amon stirred slightly in his sleep, nuzzling his cheek against his pillow. Amaimon carefully sat on the edge of his bed and watched him, his face peaceful and almost happy.

And then, for reasons unbeknownst to him, he began to sing. It was the lullaby Nymeria had sung when she was pregnant, the first thing that came from her as she held her newborn, and the last thing he heard before they took her away to be executed.

_Don't cry my sweetheart_

_You're not alone  
__No need to look for me  
__Remember I live __in you_

_I will be your summer rain  
__Field of autumn grain  
__Sound of the winter wind  
__Melody of a beautiful spring_

_It will be a lovely day  
__Just close your eyes  
__All your pain will lead you to __tomorrow_

_So don't cry my sweetheart_

Amon cracked open an eye and grinned. "You have a _terrible_ singing voice, dad."

He smiled. "I know."

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

**Author's Note:** And...that's the end! I think I've wrapped everything up, but if not, please let me know! Also, I'm absolutely terrible at anything that even remotely sounds like a song or a poem, so please excuse the quality of the 'lullaby' (honestly if someone sang that to me I'd probably rip my ears off lol)

Anyway, am I going to write more about Amon? Uhh, maybe. This is all I had planned for him and, though I would love to write more about Amon's adventures, I don't have any more good ideas. So, unless enough people are interested in a sequel or something, this is it.

Thank you so very much to everyone for supporting _Against the Tide_ either by favoriting or following or reviewing or reading! It means so much to me that _this_ many people enjoyed it. Thank you for joining me on this adventure – and I hope you enjoyed reading about Amon as much as I enjoyed writing about him!

—Melon


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